As I stepped out of the motorized vehicle, a dreamy glimpse of the Land of Arcady became a prepossessing reality as the wandering rays of a scorching pit of fire, with a dash of the earthen aroma and a dollop of green foliage hugged my trials and tribulations away. It felt as if the light embraced me, like a mother embraces her lost child and my sleep-deprived eyes squinted at the mercy of its intensity.
As I clenched the cold bodice of my hydration flask and strolled peacefully to the entrance of the local park of my neighborhood, the sun’s light played an effortless game of hide and seek and I was adamant at seeking the golden glimmer across the waxy leaf, and descending morning dew like globular crystals and the chirping of early morning birds as they left their nests to attain the catch of the day.
As my joggers crunched upon the wet gravel, I pushed the creaky, rusting gate to one side after which my hands carried the lingering scent of withering, scrapped paint over rusting iron but an entire void of invigoration had cupped me in its bosom, like refuge to a lost soul. However, as the scent of morning parathas and the pungent smoke from a passing school van filled my nostrils, I initiated my morning stroll on the blazing burgundy jogging track.
There wasn’t manifold human traffic in the park, just a few elderly men trying to stretch out before their morning jog as well as some overly-ambitious athletes boasting with their fitness gear and a lone gardener with grey hair and an emaciated figure wandering on his rented cycle to rescue the blossoming flowers for it was hard work to appear prepossessing at all instances.
And as my legs turned sore into a body full of lactic acid and the air carried the sour stench of sweat, my fitness watch beeped to remind me to remain hydrated. Thus I found my abode on a nearby muddy, white concrete bench concealed in the shade of a gigantic tree like a mother overseeing her children and I found refuge in the warmth and the incessant sound of nothingness elevated me into the blinds of the cosmology as I shut my eyes and felt the ever present connection. I had apprehended that it was time to go back home, now that I could feel the energy in each of my body’s cells simmering with the passion to accelerate.
After a day’s hectic work and an incessant migraine, I was driving back home when I reminisced on what my mother used to quote from one of her favorite movies, “Wild”, “There is a sunrise and a sunset everyday and you can choose to be there for it, you can put yourself in the way of beauty.” And like many other things, it changed my course of direction and I drove to the same park to see the sunset for it can fill you up with power, if you let it that is.
And as I strolled to the park’s entrance once again, I could sense the alteration in the tranquil environment as the human traffic bellowed and flowed into the nooks and crannies of Nature’s abode. Nonetheless, the earthy, woodsy and loamy scent of the land invigorated me like the scent of a freshly mowed garden and I descended into the flora and fauna of elderly people jogging with a sense of commitment, elderly women gossiping on a red-brick table while sharing a plate of fries drowned in oil after a day full of house work and parenting, as well as excited children bubbling like bottles of fizzy drinks in a plastic crate on a four-wheel carrier. A few of them had hijacked the swings and others ran around with their colorful backpacks, usually returning from their afternoon tuitions.
After a few hours of my nostalgic childhood, I proceeded towards an ominous and dreary, bright blue canteen whose coffee would be more rich and wholesome than any other beverage you would have ever drunk. And after I received the steaming cup over the greasy canteen counter, I darted to my usual corner, well concealed by a humongous tree and a sturdy wall of rosemary bushes, a place of my escape among the chaos and the commotion with an aroma of a tangy, woodsy scent uplifting my spirits.
I placed the cup of coffee on a patch of tame grass and as I sat meditating in the commotion of the children, I saw the steam ascending from the cup as the cool breeze touched the hot coffee. It escaped from the rim of the container as it had been liberated from a prison of bitterness, freeing itself with beauty as it curved, tilted and bent without any treason, carrying to my nostrils a waft of bitter comfort. And as the visible light dwindled into the undergrowth of the horizon, if left the sky with the most mesmerizing undertones of azure and I lay there on the grass like a descending spirit on a bed of clouds and felt the warmth of the earth embracing me with arms held open as the sun vanished under its cloaks of darkness but the chatter of life remained ever present.