The Bright Age

Only if we had a hard drive in our heads we would have used the delete function more often for the memories that were held in our sanctuaries for ages. While most of the times, my mind wanders off to the extremes of its own prejudices, I keep balancing between the two ages – the dark and the bright. I did not find the answers to the questions that erupted time and again challenging my grit. I did not find glory in suffering from a detached paranoia. I did not build a prison to capture the thoughts of helplessness forever. I did not consider getting into the why of things.

What I did was – I waited for the right place and the right moment – My moment!

I look beyond the horizon on a sunny morning with gloomy eyes filled with thirst. The sands of time have shifted to an unrestricted epiphany. I pull myself out of my tent and wipe my face covered in sweat. Never before, I felt so relaxed with perspiration sheltering my soul. It felt cold. It felt immunizing. Last night I dreamt of a hyena sniffing my tent. Maybe that was not just a dream. I heard the cunning laughter and a pretentious hiss scavenging for the dead. Woods on the bonfire soaked all the cold of the night and turned into ash by morning. My hands were dry and ugly and my clothes mudded. Conditions surrounding me appeared to be as haunting as a cave filled with demonic bats.

All my life, I searched for solace in the concrete jungle. I did find it once on my mother’s lap while she slipped unknowingly into infinity. I found solace finally, in face of distinctively wild and untamed animals. I found solace in the dichotomy of rivulets and lakes. I found solace in the rotationally tethered flock of birds flooding towards the crimson sky. I found solace in the phenomenon termed nature.

The people who inspired me were the ones I never met. I developed a sense of followership through a relentless detachment from the real world. They were different. They were called Marco Polo. They were called Ibn-E-Battuta. More often than not, moments blurred in front of me in form of human emotions, that did not stop me from moving ahead. I was social but more animal from within; an animal that followed instincts more than emotions.

I lifted my back pack filled with things that mattered to me and traversed through the reckless steeps and bends of the Himalayas. My urge to kill my fears made me jump into the Cave of Swallows on a full moon night. I was away from civilization when a pack of not-so-human-friendly wolves aspired to gulp every little piece of flesh on my bones. The pain of losing a limb troubled me when a monstrous snake rolled onto my thighs while I slept uncaringly in the moist sands of Masai Mara. I decided to learn to swim when a marsh crocodile spotted me crossing a muddy river in an African forest. A large Eagle hovered above the cliff when I decided to eat its eggs due to hunger.

The Dark Age belonged to the world full of opportunists who carried a fancy dagger wherever they went. It belonged to the infidels who savored the spices of life on the necks of people they betrayed. It belonged to the inept geeks who knew that their precincts were just a matter of retribution for their stomachs. It belonged to monsters who raped infants and infants who killed each other in the name of God. It belonged to the mercenaries congregating like puppets on a command from their masters.  It belonged to the world within the world full of hatred and disharmony.

This moment, I see a large pride of Lions resting on the gold hued rocks. This moment I see a cub fighting with its sibling. This moment I see a Lion huffing with all his energy. This moment I see a red gazelle lying motionless waiting to be consumed.

I ask myself, is this, what I waited for all my life?

My camera, my best friend, finds a perfect companion in me. I lift it with care. It makes a beautiful shutter sound. No reels, just beeps.

Click! – The Bright Age begins here.

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