Cruising with music

Music has this way of taking you on trips and bringing you back. And sometimes not.
This is where I've been led to on this dark, cold, rainy summer night. 


You realize as days go on by that you're not getting any younger; that there are so many things you want to do but haven't done as yet. And as time goes on by, you realize the days don't matter any more because it's the year that counts. As one grows up, days melt into years and before you know it, they flash in front of you. And leave you breathless - in a good way and a bad way. Both. You realize that there’s a need to do things, sometimes at the cost of others’ happiness. But it’s ok, we grow up, and so.

There are days you wish to just sit on a boat somewhere on a calm sea, and just be. You want nothing but that vast expanse in front of you and music, perhaps. A stillness that is brought forth by the steady rocking of the boat you’re settled in. Anchored.

And then it gets too hot. And you want to get back to the firm confines of land. A place  you can dig their feet into and feel the sand hold on to you. Sometimes not though, especially when tides turn. It makes sense to have a drink or two or three maybe, and a good meal. Food for thought, body and soul. With butter garlic prawns on the side please. And Kings. Soul-warming food. Heartwarming desires.

Somewhere along the way, a dance or two takes place. A moment caught in time and let loose – to dance dance dance the night away. To let go, forget and just be. To feel the sweat, heat and high. To groove and move. To not think and to just live. To live in that moment that’s set loose in time. To have not a care. To just leave it all there.

In the midst of it all, when it’s hard to let go and live in the moment, one questions faith. Are we as strong as we believe we’re not? Do we know what we believe in, or who? Do we know if there are whispers such as prayers? Or blackness. Or anger. It helps to know that the candle still burns when it has to. That collected prayers don’t melt like candles do; that what flows from it is not a river of hot wax but the searing strength of faith. Faith. Funny how we lose it and how it shows up when you least expect it to. It helps to know that it’s around somewhere.

At the end of the day, it’s overwhelming to know that the world is still yours. That it’s as much yours as anybody else’s. Yes, we all have space; a place of our own.

It helps to know that the sky’s not our limit. That sometimes we don’t even need to go as high as that to know what it feels like to soar. That there are colours all around us. That there’s someone who’s got our back and there’s also someone who keeps us rooted to the ground. It helps to know that we can soar.

It helps to know that that walk on a beach is always open.

It helps to know that the walk isn’t always alone. And if it is, it’s never really lonely. Unless you make it to be.

It helps to know that the sun will set.

It helps to know that there’ll be dawn soon enough.

It helps to know that the night in between could be as marvelous as you make it to be.

It helps to know that love isn’t as overrated as we believe it to be.

It helps to know that the world’s mine, just as much as it is yours.

It helps to know that you can always be the star you wanted to be. Even if you’re almost hidden inside the sea.

It helps to know that at the end of the day, there’s going to be that smiley even if the fries on your plate are finishing. 

Photographs: Babushka Chauhan