Ramblings    
Rain�Droplets and Moods

Its raining outside, and am forced to sit inside my cabin, complete with dark glasses, barely making it possible to look outside and see how these drops fall on the grass which is as green as the color itself.

Listening to the drizzling sound it makes while it pours down from the above on the tin shade at the canteen, and in midst of these thoughts and after thoughts I try to visualize the world outside. 

Looking towards the brick wall of my cabin and trying to compare it with colors of life, I find that it is one of the most appropriate colors, which can describe life in its totality. Its crimson red and that's how our lives become after we scorch ourselves in the bright sun and become mature. This solidness makes us withstand these down pours with out getting distorted like soft clay.

Many a times I have shut out myself from the world and try to look into the world within. Thinking about times when I wanted these moments of solitude, far away from the maddening crowd, many a times I tried to run away from civilization which some how limits me. I wanted to break free�I wanted to be myself�I just wanted to test the honesty of my selfishness�wanted to see my own reflections in the Sun which was setting beyond that horizon.

Today, when I have all the time in the world to be myself, I feel lonely. Those walls stare at me, raindrops show my own reflection and give me that sniggering look. No one is around except, me and my shadow which is also nowhere visible as Sun is covered by those black grey clouds.

Time� it changes, or with it the context changes�
But one thing is sure�moments�they never remain the same�
They change colors, hues, meanings, contexts�and with that changes that very world�

Moments, rains, moods all converge together at my mind's door and knock�.
I embrace them, try to touch them, explore them and try to extract a new meaning out of them. Try to discover a new facet, ...to add a new dimension to my thinking process just let imagination fly... Away, far away from the clutches of daily routines, boring work and stereotypical mindsets...let the breeze brush past my cheeks�.let me inhale that smell of air heavy with water and soil�all over again�

Here I fly again�

� Dwarika Prasad Uniyal
August 19, 2000

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