Wanderig Self

Go and look at the consequences as your fellow ladies are shouting for you from the hill and your hope and aspirations is eagerly waiting to be let out of the pens made of hurdles. You should not let them shout for you anymore and strain their throats and make no further delay in allowing the hope to graze before any shoots of grass come out. when it is dark and the hope is again shut in pens and everything resting, then you come again and join me in the search. at that time of night all is calm and only stray is seen wandering where moon is shinning.

Flow with the tide for a while and i will wait here for you to return to resume the search. Meanwhile i will stay at this particular corner of a shaded field. From this spot i will enjoy the sound of the bleating goat and also hear the voices of the reapers working in remote upland fields. lying here i would watch with interest the colourful scene all around me. I will see the red poppy flowers which grow naturally in the corn fields, the green roots and the ripening stalks around which creepers of pale and blue colours entwine themselves and grow slowly. I will lay on soft grass which would be pressed down under me and above me there would be lime tree which would embower and protect me from the rays of the sun. The flowers of the lime trees borne by breezes makes the whole place fragrant, will fall upon me making a soft rustling sound.

I will watch the sorrounding scene and also read my personal diary though i had read it a number of times. The young girl there possesed a sharp intellect and a fertile mind. But failed to get the"real herself" after repeated attempts. Her intention was to rise like a phoenix each time with renewed vigour. So one day she left her fellows to led a nomadic life like the gypsies.

I saw her wandering in a thoughtful mood and silent now and then. With a hope of finding her again i tried to trace her with the help of hopes, bliss and aspirations. I often enquires my fellow mates, if they saw her passing the way.
I have seen her sitting in the ferry, trailing her hand in water, leaning back and looking at the sunlight river while returning hostel after visiting Umananda Temple. Sometimes i find her sitting in a easy posture, lost in thought and having flowers gathered in her lap, while her eyes rested on water. When the riders land on the other side of the river, she getting down suddenly disappeared. Though the glimpses of her caught by me at times, but i never ever heard her speak a single word. She maintains her silent behaviour and is always thoughtful, preffering loneliness to company.

When it is day time in the country and my mom sits before her open door knitting, she has been seen. Sometimes, when children somersaults in the river she has been seen watching the pastures just throwing up shoots of grass or cows grazing in the fields. And in the evening when the stars appeared in the sky i saw her slowly moving away through the long dew covered grass. All the time she waits for heaven-sent moment of inspiration when the inner peace would be imparted to her. She has one aim in life to learn the inner peace lore and its secret. She was not distracted by multiplicity of ever changing aims in life. Age cannot exhaust her energies. She wanders, it is not because she is driven by despair. She left the world, and yet her aim in life remain fixed and she's happy in its unwearing pursuit.

In the course of her wanderings, let her appear on some pasture land, gently sloping from the hill side and then recline comfortably on some fence. Let her freshen the flowers in her lap with fresh dew and lose herself in the enjoyment of the Nightingale's song coming from a deep shaded valley. Otherwise, she would become victim to doubts and mental struggles and lose her singleness of purpose and clearness of vision. Contact with material world would bring about a very unhappy state of things. She would lose her cheerfulness and hope.