The clock strikes 3, you’ve your insomniac eyes wide open, trying to pen down your faint idea into profound words. Failed. Another crumbled paper ball strewn on the floor. Another jerk given to your unsupportive pen whose refil is apparently full and cap is misplaced now for an indefinite period of more than 3 minutes. Scratching your head, trying to brainstorm a feeling, a beat, a memory. Recalling a Captured view, reminiscing a picturesque scene or cursing your scathing memory.
There’s so much you observe about yourself only when the ambience is quiet and calm. The clock may be ticking all day but you’ll hear it tick only at times, maybe that’s when you pay attention to it. It may take some time for the swing to stop moving completely or the tap to stop running completely. But those go unnoticed during the day. Maybe, in that time you’ll realise that you sound good only when the song’s playing along but you croak like a frog when it’s not. Counting number of tiles in your bathroom is not when you’re bored. It’s when you’re learning to make it count. There’s beauty in the shadows, there’s detail in perspective, there’s satisfaction in good handwriting. All of this, if you observe. Because things don’t matter unless you pay attention. You’ll always check if you’re wearing a red T-shirt when the teacher says “Red T-shirt, stand up.” You do all of this not because you’re bored at certain times. Because that’s when LIFE strikes on you.
Thoughts, feelings, ideas, bokeh, bubble, mirage, sepia, blur, print, memory, scene. Midnight musings.
(Inspired from a post by a gentleman called Vatsal Udani.)