THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

THE CIRCLE OF LIFE
It was 5:45 pm when I got back from the office yesterday. I took off my shoes, offered namaz, and consumed the glass of milk on the table. Everything was the same. I knew that nothing had changed in my world; the canvas of my life lay unravished like a virgin as it was the day before, and yet I knew the very consciousness of my existence in the world had changed everything.

Everything in the world seems to exist in the world for my sake. I’m like a plant tended with dare, unaware of the continuous labour involved for the gardener, but I do have an inkling of the enormous industry at work in the world that goes on unseen everyday so that I might emerge as a winner at the end of the day. My transition to a happier tomorrow seems to be so important that almost everything in the world seems to be pre-occupied with ensuring the happiness of the next day. Despite the awareness of the concerted efforts of the world’s forces in my favour, I’m also conscious of the bipolarity of these forces. While one half of the world seems to have no occupation but to shower problems on me night and day, the other half seems to be busy in solving them after a couple of cycles of sunrise and sunset, but the difference between each sunset and sunrise seems to be so vast that I begin to doubt whether the blazing sun would ever set in the west in the evening, or even whether the night following the sunset would come to an end. The key to sustenance through the night and the scorching heat of the sun has been my persistence. My insistence on marching ahead despite the overwhelming darkness of the night and the sweltering heat of the sun has brought me through a vast distance. The realisation of the vast distance covered seems to assure me that the night would come to an end; the night would certainly come to an end.

The end of the dark and forbidding night would certainly bring an element of change in my life, but it would bring with itself the intolerable heat of the sun. A few alteration s would have to be made to my life that has been wafting along like thistledown in the wind, so that I can embrace the warmth of the sun without any discomfort. Initially, I would have to see the world through squinted eyes because of the blinding glare of the sun, but the change would be welcome after the long, dark and cold night that I have been through.

Throughout the night, I was subjected to a world reigned over by my dreams. Some of these dreams would commute themselves to reality soon, while most of them would return to haunt me for a long time to come. The dreams that come true would be so enticing that I would wish to go to sleep again, but when I think it over again, the real world is much better than the imagined allegories that were a part of the night.

Without the imagined allegories that were a part of the night, my life would be a vast empty room full of nothing. If I peer very closely into every part of my life, I would realise that my fate has scripted several short-stories for me, but these stories could not turn into reality. These stories form an important part of the epic of my life, they have contributed their share to my bliss, and many more stories are in the making! These stories are preserved in the deepest corner of my heart as some of the most memorable moments of my life.

Life comes back a full circle back to where it all started. I was standing in the same place when I returned from the office today, and looked up at the clock----it was 5:45 pm. Nothing had changed since yesterday.