As I grow older, with the passing of each age, as nature’s light beckons me, and I see the most vivid green hue, as time meets another phase, and being to becoming is inevitable, I seek a deep solitude, a colder mist, and a bluer sky. I long for the rolling hills, layered and layered, and yet existing, without the need for language or interpretation. I seek to receive more than give, to listen more than talk, to know more than interpret, and my books will take me on my course for a season, before a deeper thirst forms within: One fulfilled only by the beauty of natural things – seen, felt, smelt or tasted. I long for a disconnection from society and its restrictions, but not for a reckless abandon, but a purer loss of inhibition, and this isn’t fatigue or jadedness; it’s an innate need: one that always existed but now has finally met my consciousness. I long for the company of one or two only – like-minded, compassionate and loving, and seek to not emulate them, but become like them; separate and yet the same. I seek beauty, love, joy and peace: emotion I’ve known and am slowly knowing again. I also seek the bliss of non-being or not-existing though I exist. I look for one woman, who’ll give me true love, and not just physical satisfaction. I aim for transcendence, and don’t want to look back on my contradictions or how far I’ve come. I aim to live in the present and delight and embrace her. And some say, it’s plausible; other’s idyllic, I’ll say it’s happening.
© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)