Tuesday, March 30, 2010

An Ode to My Day Dreams

I sit in a grey room. With tall walls. Walls so tall, that I can’t feel the ceiling. But I know it exists. I look outside the window, with intricate vine-like designs, when I see a vision of a long neck. It seems almost vulnerable. I don’t know why, considering it belongs to a guy who seems to have a bull-neck. Then I get images of him. Of what we might do, were we in the same place. I can feel this music playing in the background – Fadeaway, Porcupine Tree – when I’m haunted by flashes of his picture in my mind.

* * *

We walk along the sea shore. Hand-in-hand. Feeling the electro-magnetic current passing between us. When two people are attracted to each other, there is always a flow of such currents between the two individuals. It gets stronger with each passing moment. It is this electro-magnetic vibration that leads to telepathy between the two individuals. They read the meaning of life, deeply in each others’ eyes, for whatever a fleeting moment. To feel a sense of the soul’s satisfaction, if only for that pause of a moment in eternity’s now.

We sit on a rock, as the waves wash against our feet, watching the sun set. It is a lonely spot, with swooping sea gulls for company. I sit behind and above him, while he rests between my legs as I get these images of him and me. Of how vulnerable he is. I found that so attractive once upon a time, to only start thinking otherwise. I remember the music we’ve played together. Or at least the memory of the music that plays in my head every time I see him. That quiet, passive observation with which I’d like to gaze at him in a crowded room, with bustling activities, as I gaze at him, I’m like the eye of a storm or a calm oasis. Then we have a connection, when everything else stops for us, as time slows down to finally falter and stop moving. We have only us. A connection of our eyes. The pull of the gaze is strong and palpable as we feel a thread pulling us together in a hypnotic rush. But we resist the urge, increasing the headiness of the feeling, before we finally open our senses to the world outside, the bustling activities, as we leave the calm oasis – our space – to enter the busy world outside with its whirlwind activities.

* * *

Friday, March 19, 2010

Going Slow...

The importance of going slow is never emphasized too much in our lives. I am a slow person. I have been so since I was a child. Somewhere I still have retained those qualities. I have, of course, learnt to “speeden” things up. But I am still much slower compared to a lot of other people in my life.

I don’t think I have ever “cursed” myself or felt bad about being slow. In fact, somewhere it has always been my sub-conscious desire to be slow. Things feel so much better when it is done slowly. Food digests better when you chew it thoroughly, take your time and eat it slow. You savour it much better and land up over eating much lesser.

There is nothing as luxurious as a long, languorous and a slow bath. It is like you have all the time in the world to engage in an activity that you really enjoy doing. The refreshing and satisfied feeling one gets after having one of such luxurious baths is quite incomparable.

Slow, melodious music can be so soothing. A slow book allows you time to dwell on all the finer, sentimental aspects of day-to-day, mundane activities. It brings out the special side of everything that we tend to take for granted or overlook in our rushed lives. A slow growth.

And of course slow love-making… Can there be anything as wondrous as that? You take the time to drink in every special aspect of your lover’s skin, his/her expressions, their tiny mannerisms, the mole they have in an area that may not see much sunlight. The touch you feel from their skin. The way they taste, smell, feel... Their warmth. Those slow, long, languorous kisses. The thing that makes you lose sense of time and place. Can you feel that any other way than when going slow?

One other experience that is incomparable is excreting slooooowly. Wow, the experience that is. Take your time when in the loo. It is even better if you’re naked, you’re in the loo – it is a hot summers day and there is a bucket of pleasantly chill water next to you. You’re hot and humid inside, pouring a mug full of the chill water on your head, feeling completely the way the water moves over your body as you slowly excrete. My, my – such incomparable pleasure!

I’m sorry the above paragraph might be slightly unpalatable to some. But one must not shy from all sorts of experiences in life. If we just let our senses take over and slow things down, the high one feels is very different. A lot of beautiful and things worth having happen slowly or take time to make. If we can just learn to stop being impatient and just sink in and enjoy the process, things are so much better.

The depth of understanding you get of a person when you know them slowly, is an experience all by itself. It helps you remember a lot of special memories and trust easier (oh, it is sooo important!)

So, if you’re slow, don’t feel bad about it. Celebrate it instead! And if you have a tendency to do things quickly or expect things to be done quickly, then unhook, look around and go slow because…the quick can be tripped up by the quiescent.