The Power of Solitude
Masks! When did they become such a vital accessory? On my face, in my purse, in my car, on my desk; they were sprawling everywhere! This year, this pandemic was definitely a life-changing experience for me because I learnt the power of solitude…
Sitting on the balcony, under the mellow sunshine, sipping coffee from the ceramic mug that gave rise to tiny wisps of vapors that snaked upwards to catch the sunlight was an ideal morning for me. Observing the streets full of life, vigor and liberated people drawn into current in the direction of the motorway was a delightful sight that fizzled out when the news of the contagious virus surfaced. Roads were empty, sullen and hushed; the asphalt became more evident that was once hidden below the rainbow of commuters traversing on it. Initially I felt blue about the whole situation but when I entered a room, which I had locked years ago, everything became colorful!
‘Childhood’ was the label that hung on the compelling door, I unlocked the rusted lock and began my venture.
Photo frames, are like fossilized memories and the ones which have soul-stirring family pictures never fail to bring a sense of camaraderie. I started living alone some years back and now in this situation, photos of my family having dinner, watching a movie or indulging in a casual banter made me feel very close to them! As I tried to arrange the black and white reel, I tripped over a burgundy book. The captivating Celtic designs, immediately made me realize, it was my precious, sacred, diary! I had stopped writing my journals when I moved to Mumbai and got recruited into a multinational firm. The scripts within would sure bring a riot of complex yet heart-melting moments to me.
Digging a little deeper, I discovered my canvases I painted as I teen. How wild my imaginations were, a bizarre spectacle lay in front of me! Just like the somber world outside, my life too had lost its color! My bookshelf was still intact with all the books that I read as a teenager, aligned like soldiers in attention. Tiny notes, underlined phrases and sometimes even hilarious doodles unraveled as I flipped through the soft, wrinkled pages. Falling deeper into the flashback, I could visualize a bubbly girl grooving to her favorite song, splashing the canvas with the passionate colors and ruling the world she made of her own, I found the lost spark, I found my element, I reached an epiphany!
In this year, I couldn’t have been more productive: virtually reuniting with loved ones, setting up a personal gallery of flamboyant paintings, writing a book and launching a software that recorded all your core and inedible moments was just some of the things I catered to!
Well, now that I sit and stare into the gothic sculpted ivory mirror, I see an old but striking lady whose eyes only spoke of resilience. That year was the year wherein I was born again, to live longer and fuller.