Existence and Bliss

I wake up on a cold misty morning. Its drizzling outside. I shiver and get out of my sheets. The motion disturbs you and you instinctively put your arms around me. Don't go, they say. I'm only too happy to oblige.

I wake up to the aroma of filter coffee. As my blurry vision clears, I see that its drizzling outside. The sun is not fully awake yet. I take a mug of coffee and sit by your side on the porch. The hills. The grass. The birds . And you. Silence speaks more than words ever can.

Its a warm, lazy afternoon. One of those times when time seems to stand still and timeless works are meant to be savoured. Read to me she says. I do. The words of Tagore hold us both in rapture.

In the evening it rains again. The clouds conspire to keep us indoors. I stand watching her. She is lost in a world where only sound exists. Her hands slide effortlessly along the neck of the veena, producing sublime strains of music. Occasionally, she breaks into song. A concert for a sole, ardent admirer. I close my eyes and listen.

The rays of the sun bid one final goodbye as twilight turns to dusk. The cool rays of the moon bathe us in soft light. We walk, silhouettes in the near darkness. Whispered conversations. Laughter . We walk.


Thanks for the Inspiration :)