In some symphonies, like in plays, there are interludes. Their beauty lies in the fact that they are and still are not, a part of the composition but help the audience to cross over to the other half. In the canvas of an artist's creation, what the onlooker beholds is the subject or object of the creation. But there lies a backdrop, a motif or pattern which enhances the value of the subject. This is the beauty often overlooked by many. When the autumn leaves fall away they evoke a sense of nostalgia, like the parting of a dear friend because in that last resplendent raiment of the trees, one senses that though new ones will come back, those that were, never will. When two ships pass at sea, they dip their beacons in a kind of salute and move on. If you have stood on the deck and watched, it isn't just about a ship that sailed away, it sometimes feel like a friend lost forever in the vast expanse. I have a home on the hills and when I stand on the mountaintop, under the clear star bedecked sky, I feel as if I could reach out and catch the stars and keep them in a box by my bed to twinkle through the night for me. And yet there is one star one could never hold or reach out to; the shooting star. You see it fall and then look around to see where it could be but you can never relive that moment again. And the shooting star remains for us as enigmatic as it always was. When it rains one can feel , smell and sense the satiation of the earth and feel nourished by it in turn. And yet what charms us most on a rainy day is that multi splendoured bow that springs up across the sky and beckons with its warmth and glow.
There is an underlying pattern to all these feelings. It is our sense of reverence for that which is evanescent. It is the nostalgia evoked by whatever is fleeting. Our most poignant thoughts are then not attached with permanence but with the transient. This could be an extension of our realisation that in the master plan we are as ephemereal and infinitesimal as a shooting star, a rainbow or a ship that sails by. And yet we are happy to strive all our lives to convert everything into a state of permanence...
Sameness brings a semblance of security to most souls. In that process, every moment of every day , which is unique by itself loses its individuality and is adorned by the garb of routine or rote. So also for relationships; all supposedly meaningful relationships must confirm to a pattern and be governed by set of dos and donts. And then we lament the demise of the spontaneity or the initial euphoria...
Wouldn't it be better to sometimes just step away from it all and be the beholder- to see the beauty of the backdrop rather than dwell on the subject, to remember the multicolored hues that were and retain the sense of nostalgia and wonder, to hold the memory in one's heart rather than to tie another down with stereotypes and mores..
