Beyond The Silent Window...

28^th July 2011

Quiet, peaceful, the view from here, from the inside, shielded by the coloured glass, decorated by the fanciest venetian blinds, the sunlight hesitating, trying to fall through the gaps, here and there, not sure if it is welcome.  Generously enough, the glass allows for a view outside, challenging my interpretations. It is a bold move, to take this challenge, since, what is beyond will not change, but what the eyes choose to see, would alter the world inside. 

That bird, high up in the sky that I see, flying in circles, peaceful...or is it hunting? Maybe I would never understand the thrill and tension of that predator, hungry, anguished, displaying its basic nature. That slight ruffle of leaves... a soft greeting or a warning of impending doom? 

Of all the stillness in the midst of these flying birds, objects move, continuously, from left to right and right to left. Are they hollow, moving on their own, directionless, clueless towards the dense mist somewhere in the east. Or are there filled with the carriers of thoughts, and life, and happiness, celebration, or vacuum? Whoever they are, carriers or non-carriers, in such variety of existence, but the directions taken by them are only two, or three at the most? No wonder the world is crowded; for these paths are forever full, and those that are hidden, rarely taken, a gigantic sign at the entrance...” do you care?” And when by mistake the answer is a “yes”, the sarcastic laughter reverberates in the emptiness of those paths, piercing through that laughter is where the interpretations of the inside come to aid. 

The world inside defines the one beyond the coloured glass, for the strength of the winds falling on the windows is immeasurable, that which is acting as a shield transforms into an enabler of ignorance. The colour of the rains is a mystery, and the one who has never stepped out to feel it would never know it from here. Those who are new, born inside would never care; but the aged, the experienced, would feel the nostalgia, the longing to move out and stand there, beyond that beguiling glass-cover.  The uneasiness would make them stare blankly into the distance, and if their insides permit, they would venture outside, fearless, and strong.