Reflections in a Darkened Room
I don't usually believe in God. Let's just add the word 'usually' for the sake of reconfirmation. Sometimes, I talk to myself, sometimes to my stuffed dog, sometimes to friends now lost or love that once was all powerful and conclusive, even the moon. At times, I break down, plead to the forces of nature, the universe, let's just say all of this is my 'prayer', my 'dialogues with God', only a God that doesnot exist in places, or idols or chants.
The other day, I watched a movie I've wanted to for a long time. It had a long, poetic name and when I read in the papers that it was going to be screened on television, I finished my grocery shopping, heated my bowl of pasta and sat down to watch it. The theme hit a little too close to home, about trying to forget, in fact trying so hard that it hits you like a lampost in the night, that there is no need to forget.
Without going into any details, let's just say it opened my can of worms, and my tear glands which I thought, like a lake in winter had dried up for good. But ah, beneath the thin ice cover is dangerous territory, cold waters that hide secret life.
So i sobbed and sobbed, talking out aloud, like Hopkins' 'Dark Sonnets', cursing an invisible god. 'Why have you put me in a darkened room? When will that hidden beam, that light at the end of the tunnel show?'It was melodramatic at its best. My glasses were off, so the world looked blurred, out of focus and mistaken.
I happened to move and looked towards my bedroom where the lights were off. It was crazy, because suddenly I saw a glittering patch of light on the ceiling. Cluster of fireflies? Car lights from below? I put my glasses back on and went to inspect. It was nothing big, no answerable miracle. Even though the curtains were drawn and it was night, the light from outside had managed to seep in and was being reflected on the blades of the fan.
I smiled. The message was clear and simple. Even if your room is dark, there can be light, only if it's allowed to reflect properly. It wasn't God telling me this. It was just pure logic. The key was in being able to reflect light, to brighten a darkened room. There was noone else who could do it. I had to. I wiped my tears, smiled, put on some music and broke into a jig.Silly nilly, the most difficult answers are found in the easiest places. Like dancing when you're sad.
Works better with a glass of rum though :)
I don't usually believe in God. Let's just add the word 'usually' for the sake of reconfirmation. Sometimes, I talk to myself, sometimes to my stuffed dog, sometimes to friends now lost or love that once was all powerful and conclusive, even the moon. At times, I break down, plead to the forces of nature, the universe, let's just say all of this is my 'prayer', my 'dialogues with God', only a God that doesnot exist in places, or idols or chants.
The other day, I watched a movie I've wanted to for a long time. It had a long, poetic name and when I read in the papers that it was going to be screened on television, I finished my grocery shopping, heated my bowl of pasta and sat down to watch it. The theme hit a little too close to home, about trying to forget, in fact trying so hard that it hits you like a lampost in the night, that there is no need to forget.
Without going into any details, let's just say it opened my can of worms, and my tear glands which I thought, like a lake in winter had dried up for good. But ah, beneath the thin ice cover is dangerous territory, cold waters that hide secret life.
So i sobbed and sobbed, talking out aloud, like Hopkins' 'Dark Sonnets', cursing an invisible god. 'Why have you put me in a darkened room? When will that hidden beam, that light at the end of the tunnel show?'It was melodramatic at its best. My glasses were off, so the world looked blurred, out of focus and mistaken.
I happened to move and looked towards my bedroom where the lights were off. It was crazy, because suddenly I saw a glittering patch of light on the ceiling. Cluster of fireflies? Car lights from below? I put my glasses back on and went to inspect. It was nothing big, no answerable miracle. Even though the curtains were drawn and it was night, the light from outside had managed to seep in and was being reflected on the blades of the fan.
I smiled. The message was clear and simple. Even if your room is dark, there can be light, only if it's allowed to reflect properly. It wasn't God telling me this. It was just pure logic. The key was in being able to reflect light, to brighten a darkened room. There was noone else who could do it. I had to. I wiped my tears, smiled, put on some music and broke into a jig.Silly nilly, the most difficult answers are found in the easiest places. Like dancing when you're sad.
Works better with a glass of rum though :)
Comments
wow. thank god for having you back. don't ask me "who god" now. let it be your god, for once.
don't worry friend we are all here for you :-)