Of Momentous times and collecting Shackles

I gaze along the silent scenery in front of me. Dusk seeped through the day, and the sky tickled the mixture of gray and white. A lethal combination! I have been sitting near the window of my room for quite a while, listening to the musical downpour. Few droplets stealthily entering into the room and onto my skin, which reminded me of my present existence. The heaviness of the mug reminding me of the magical concoction, chai that occasionally I sipped. I let the cinnamon and cardamom flavor hit my senses. I have been reminiscing my past. Memories dangerously overcrowded my bonnet.

I come from haunts of coot and hern,

I make a sudden sally,

And sparkle out among the fern,

To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,

Or slip between the ridges,

By twenty thorps, a little town,

And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

The silent zephyr and the raindrops giving me goosebumps. I run my finger lazily over the rim of the chai cup, slipping into the memory lane of the past year. Escaping the summers and finding solace in the hills for some days has been the major event for years now. Munnar, a beautiful place, somewhere in the woods of Kerala, so exotic and rich with undisturbed beauty. The time has been different. It was not just my family with me, but my best friend tagged with me on the trip too. I felt too restless all along the trip because I knew somehow things are going to change. I was to move away from my family for my studies abroad. So, like a hungry tiger, I tried to capture as many memories as I can.

I chatter over stony ways,

In little sharps and trebles,

I bubble into eddying bays,

I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my banks I fret

by many a field and fallow,

And many a fairy foreland set

With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

One morning during the trip, I successfully dragged my papa for a morning walk in the hills, others too lazy to wake up and snuggled in the warm confines of the morning. At around 6:30 in the morning I convinced my papa to go for a walk and promising him with the special chai that I discovered the previous evening in a small stall down the hill. We walked in silence. The mystic sky groaning and letting the people know of the upcoming shower. Papa has been one of my best friends, and he is the hero of my life. Amma, Papa, my sister, my friend -my partners in crime- have been with me through thick and thin of my life.

And here and there a foamy flake

Upon me, as I travel

With many a silver water-break

Above the golden gravel,

The walk to the chai stall was silent. I pulled him inside the overcrowded chai stall and ordered for two special chai. We took the chai and walked across the quiet lane that lay sprawled and unhindered. As we walked along the silent road, it started raining. We rushed to a small canopy of the banyan trees wherein few people took shelter from the rain. The clime of the hills is always unpredictable. It is, without any speck of doubt the most exciting place. We settled on the rocks enjoying the steaming chai. Papa turned to me and told me few things. Things that I can cherish all my life. He spoke about my childhood, the times that are hurriedly changing. The unbridled fatherly pride that he held in the cocoon of his heart. He told me how important it is for me to live confidently and never loose hope. Ever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,

I slide by hazel covers;

I move the sweet forget-me-nots

That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,

Among my skimming swallows;

I make the netted sunbeam dance

Against my sandy shallows.

The sudden whiff of fresh rain hit my nostrils through the window breaking my reverie. I took another sip from the magical mug. I never thought that something as ordinary as rain and as usual as chai would bring back memories so pivotal at the brink when I felt so gloomy. I smile looking at the falling leaves and the sound of rain, which gave me so much more solace in the times of dearth of decisive actions. It was just yesterday I sat with my friend, and she told me something so menial but so extraordinary. She chuckled at me when I told her how sometimes taking pain is beautiful. She smiled and said 'we are not here to suffer but live. Live as happily and comfortably as we can!' and just like that, the words took so much more place in my bonnet than I can believe.

I murmur under moon and stars

In brambly wildernesses;

I linger by my shingly bars;

I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

Time never ceases to amaze me. Now when I think, I feel so much more different. So much happier. So much more passionate and independent. It is not to push ourselves to suffer and distress the kind heart, which beats every second so punctually. Time heals and time destroys. Till eternity it ensures changes, for good or for bad. It is for us to decide to let go and live life like a better person and enjoy every turn we take. Because every corner of life that we take, there is always hope for us. Hope for something better but it is just on us to ensure that the shackles of the distress are hidden somewhere, and yes confidence takes the duty for that purpose. Indeed, live confidently and never lose hope. The brook as said by Alfred Tennyson travels witnessing the changing times.

PS: I had the strongest urge to express my feelings and what else can be better than writing it out.

PPS: It is one of my favorite poems written by Alfred Tennyson. It has so much meaning in it. If only we can read between the lines...

The excerpts of the poem are taken from http://www.poetry-archive.com/t/the_brook.html.