| The soft light of dusk filters down through the clouds turning the world grey. As I walk the early morning rain makes a syncopated beat on the hood of my jacket, a hypnotising tattoo that frees my mind to go wandering. I think back to last night. How I had gone for a meal with Vicky. How we had talked about the same things we normally talk about: the music we both like to listen to, the films we both like to watch, the books we both like to read. I thought back to how I had finally gained the courage to tell her exactly how I felt about her. How I told her about the feeling that had been swelling inside of me for the last month. But most of all I remember how with a sweet, sad smile and seven little words she tore my world in two.
“I hope we can still be friends.”
I’ve left my little village behind now as I walk forwards into the gloom. The roads give way to small country lanes which in turn give way to a small path bordered by hedgerows. The early summer flowers that sprang up so eagerly have been beaten down by the rain fall and lie with their heads wilted to the ground. The earth beneath my feet which had so recently been baked hard by the warm caresses of the sun has now turned to a soft mud which sticks to my trainers, leaving stains on them which I will carry forward with me.
How could I have been so wrong? How did I misread all the signs? I was so sure that she would reciprocate. That something had begun between us. Now I’m left feeling stupid and hollow.
As I walk my dismal path I look to my left and see one of the many bomb craters that litter the country side around here. During WorldWar II this area was used by the German bombers as a dumping ground for their surplus bombs so they would be light enough to make the return journey. The devastation they left is still evident in the deep hollows.
Underneath the arboreal canopy I can pull back my hood and let the world fully enter my senses. The syncopated rhythm of the rain hitting the leaves above soothes as the smell of microbial life fills my nostrils. The peaty scent is all pervading, a reminder of life’s constant processes. All around me the old and the dead are being broken down while the young and the new spring up in their place.
My mind once again turns back to Vicky and our conversation. I remember the look in her eyes as she’d told me that she didn’t have the same feelings for me. There was pity there, mixed in with sadness but there was something else. Hidden in the depths I think I also saw hope.
Ahead of me the archway of branches gives way to a portico leading to fields. As I approach there is a break in the cloud which allows a single ray of sunshine to pierce through and fall on my path. In the field beyond a horse stands and nibbles the grassy verges, nearby a foal is stumbling around on unsteady legs as it slowly learns to walk. As the sunlight strengthens and slowly fills the world with colour I find my pace slowing and becoming lighter. Across the fields the green leaves of the wood fill with an effulgent intensity.
I reflect back on the evening. I guess that some times we become so focussed on what we want the world to be that we lose sight of what it is. The friendship I share with Vicky became a fuel for the infatuation I felt for her, but now that is gone the basis for it is still there. We still share many of the same passions. The reason we became friends in the first place hasn’t changed. Was that the hope that I saw in her eyes? Did she hope that a friendship wasn’t going to be lost?
In the field I’m walking through a copse has sprung up in one of the bomb craters. Unable to fill in the scar the farmer has allowed it to turn fallow and from amidst the carnage of a bomb trees have grown. Within these trees animals have made their homes. I can see rabbits as they run from me back to their burrows, in the branches birds are beginning to sing the dawn chorus and nearby the young foal is investigating this strange new world.
A smile crosses my face as I realise something.
I hope we can still be friends.
EVERY RELATION CAN DIE BUT FRIENDSHIP CAN NEVER DIE !
January 28 Introspection
Look within yourself. Remember, the Infinite is everywhere. Diving deep into superconsciousness, you can speed your mind through eternity; by the power of mind you can go farther than the farthest star. The searchlight of mind is fully equipped to throw its superconscious rays into the innermost heart of Truth. Use it to do so.
Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, “Man’s Eternal Quest”
HAVE A BLISSFUL LIFE! : )
Regards,
From: Vishal - a pure soul like You.
|
