Gazing from the Hill Top

Standing on the hill top I view the vast expanse that lay ahead of me, dotted with high rising buildings and a few green trees strewn on the landscape. The cool evening wind caressing my cheeks and playing with my hair, soothing the ruffled nerves of an over worked mind.

As calm and peace wrapped its comforting arms around my brain, it tickled a thought existence and life. Running in this rat race called life, setting superficial goals, achievement of which gives us momentary pleasure and an instantaneous high that is what existence has dome down to. Mere breathing and chasing, stumbling, falling, rising running again. Sometimes we don’t even know what we are running after. The fog that envelopes life gets thicker and thicker till the time we stop and say, “I can see no more. The fog has clouded my vision. Is there a road ahead or a cliff, I fail to recognize. All I know is that I am running, chasing something. To put a name to it or describe it beyond my limited faculties of comprehension.”

So I go to the hill top and view the vast expanse of land that lay ahead of me, and look at life from the outside. My eyes rest upon the high rising buildings which signify success and mechanism at one level. Success accrued, courtesy capitalism which behind its façade stinks of degeneration. Vaguely reminds me of my chase.

The eye then turns to the green trees symbolic of nature withstanding the feats of man of making it a living hell for all that is natural and simple. Simplicity at the slaughter of intelligence and advancement. I hear the air whisper in my ears, all that is simple shall not last.

Then the shimmering lights on the streets and of the vehicles moving attract the eye. The vehicles slithering on the serpentine roads. Going to... Coming back from? I fail to fathom.

All and sundry and on the move going somewhere and chasing something. That which is static like the tree is at the altar of decadence.

From the hill top, where everything looked minute like drops in the ocean, I removed the chaff from the seed. Differentiated between living and existing. We are all mere pseudo existential puppets who are living without knowing what they are living for. Chasing without knowing what they are chasing. Going through stages of obscurity till it all becomes opaque and chokes us to death.

Nature is always the rescue to elucidate on the most absurd notions. After the long hours of a cold winter night where the dense fog rests heavy in the air, the dawn cuts the fog with the warmth of the sun to spread the light of life. Only then does the human eye witness the beauties of nature. Obscurity needs to be shattered after a point to see what lies ahead to add value and meaning to existence.