Change, they say, is the only constant.
Change is what keeps the stone rolling so it gathers no moss - unstoppable and unfeeling as the wheels of time. But sometimes I wonder. Does beauty not lie in decay as well? Is stillness not a requisite for serenity?
In the casual delirium of our lives, we wander as Bedouins beneath a desert moon. Across dunes of daily experiences. Through sandstorms of difficult choices. All the while hurtling towards new destinations and newer identities as we continue to explore the world both without and within. And often we are so worn out from this journey that at the end of the day we forget the myriad paths that we have trodden.
In our relentless pursuit of the what and the where, we tend to overlook the how and the why.
Thus, once in a while, we need to take a back seat. And observe. Perceive and relish the wonders hiding in plain sight just around us - the high-pitched squeals of a child's innocent laughter, the sizzle of stir-frying curry leaves, the blissful aroma of incense, city-lights sprouting at twilight...Innumerable instances of delicate charm that are omnipresent, but are rewarded only to keen senses, just as renowned philosopher Henry David Thoreau once rightly said - "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."
And yet, the art of observation doesn't simply end with the discovery of earthly delights. At times when the tides of misery rise too high and the shores of solace seem too far, one has to still the mind in order to soothe the heart. For one who only stares skyward is blinded, whereas one who learns to gaze inward is enlightened.
It is these unnoticed details in the intricate tapestry of human existence that I wish to carve out and celebrate in this book. To savour each of its flavours and help spread its fragrance to others. To bring home the realization that a tree without flowers can still be elegant in its own right.
Nature, the sower of life and also its reaper, is never inert. Before the bees begin to bumble, a lot is happening behind the garb of apparent dormancy. So what if the buds haven't bloomed? After all, the metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly is an affair of great ambition and precision. And such affairs take time.
Upon reflection, don't we humans do the same? We bloom, we wither, and we bloom again and again till the ultimate withering sends us back to the earth we arose from. Now that, I believe, is the true essence of the human spirit - to brave all odds and never stop growing so that one day the frost shall thaw and spring shall unfurl.
If we are patient enough, gentle reader, perhaps we might understand this enigma that is life - daunting in its grandeur, humbling in its fragility, and in the wise words of Emily Dickinson, "fulfilling absolute decree in casual simplicity."
And what better way to appreciate this than to cherish the sweet wait in between blooms! - Amlaan Akshayanshu Sahoo
