Conversations with the Moon

My days are passing by, each day sprouting out like that tender leaf of light green hue on that large peepul tree at which I gape from the bus window.

 

In the season of appraisals, I took a break to relish another season, the season of spring. The season, when the almighty dips his divine brushes in different colours and splashes it here and there: the hot pink bougainvillaea, the bright orange gulmohar and not to forget the fifty shades of green one sees in the trees around.

 

In the times when we search for the best picture quality in Smart TVs or smartphones, nature silently grins at our folly. “Just look around and witness the real picture quality,” is what she whispers in one’s ears through a sudden gush of wind.

 

Pity that most of the times, we have no clue about it. We have our headphones plugged in after all. The other day while I was returning from office, some of my colleagues were discussing their career prospects. There were ambitions coupled with apprehensions sprinkled with a little bit of family tensions, yet there was a slight flavour of hope too. Hope is a good thing after all.

 

After some passive listening, I looked out of the window. Someone was already waiting for me all this while to have a conversation. No, this is not a horror story where a creepy ghost would emerge from the window of a moving car.

 

It was my dear old friend, the Moon.

 

The full moon was mischievously playing around with ripples of a pond. Almost like the scenery from my drawing book in the fifth standard. A silent smile emerged on my face. The moon smiled back too.

It was a moment of perfect bliss, where words ceased to exist, the earthly discussions, nothing seemed to matter. It was just me and the moon, conversing in the language of the oneness of the universe.

 

The moon followed me all the way to my home, never leaving my side, just like a true friend. We were apart, yet we were together. The distance never mattered in friendship after all. I was reminded of my friends, whom I was silently letting go, citing my busy schedule, I felt so naive. The moon smiled and whispered, “It is not too late yet.”

 

As I reached home, I was dead tired and hardly spoke to my parents. As I was about to sleep, I saw the moon peeping through my window, telling me that these days would pass too. I went to my parent’s room and saw them sleeping peacefully. “Was I being grateful that they are with me?” I wondered. “They are just like me,” the moon said, “Whether you know or not, they’ll be with you always, showering their love upon you, just like I shower my moonbeam.”

 

It is then I realised that life is not measured by the clock, it is measured by moments. “Was I making the most of these moments while fixing my gaze upon the future?”


There are many lonely nights when we fret, we burn in agony, we curse, we worry, we lament, we envy, we cry, all the while the moon witnesses us sadly. It wonders that despite being a minute speck in the universe, we take our materialistic pursuits so seriously. So much that, some of us in our mental trauma detest our very own existence. We think more about our promotions than our relationships, more about our outer appearance than our inner soul.

 

The moon told me that despite the deep ignorance of the human race, it never gives up, it is the brand ambassador of hope appointed by the almighty. The hope that no matter how dark the night be, there is one white bulb of light, that follows no matter where one is and no matter where one goes. One just needs to look beyond one’s smartphone to witness the tiny miracle and have conversations with it.

 

I do not know when I feel asleep and as I woke up, my dear friend was gone. It wasn’t gone actually though, there it was in a corner of my heart.

 

We will talk again soon. We will talk until one day, after many years, with a wrinkled body, dancing gait, blurred vision and quivering lips, I will be ready for my eternal sleep. We will talk like best friends, reminiscing about the times when in the season of spring, amidst the breeze, the moon had taught me to celebrate the beauty of life. I just hope that as I close my eyes, the moon silently whispers to me that, “I am glad that you led a good life with love, friendship, compassion and hope, not fretting over things, but cherishing your moments with people.”

 

Have you had a conversation with the moon lately?


Image Source: pixabay.com

 


 

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