A lengthy and seemingly endless rainy winter slumped into spring—not the season we are familiar with with warmish sun and a breeze that tickles your skin—but a spring towards the summer nonetheless! One such morning, trapped in my own making, a conversation began with my imaginative partner, affectionately known to me as “I.” Documenting the dialogues with enthusiasm had the potency to unseat my inertia. If the excitement will continue beyond a few pages of writing, it is nothing but speculation.
Yet, I have to settle on how an imaginative figure became the way he is. The sun, moon, wind, and seasons labored in precious synchrony to sculpt his presence, and now he breathes away in my thoughts, only in my mind.
My questions to him are: Does your kind have a permanent companion you wrap in a hug at night while you fall asleep? What songs do you like to listen to alone or with others, and what dance do you share when you feel tender? How do people maintain a connection with their true selves, the “I?” Sometimes, my fancy is that my strength and verve have awarded me with a lucky discovery to keep you to myself. And only to myself, no one else!
Most people around me treat me like they have access to you, my “I!” However, those close to me are unaware of your existence. You remain tucked in my cranial cavity, devoid of the sun, while being nourished by the resilience of our togetherness. What a miracle, if you ask me! My struggle to express myself coherently has always been an impediment. Limitations of language and everyone’s impressionistic perspectives made conversations with my peers merely scratch the surface. We mostly discard complex thoughts rather than explore them. So that we may hurry through life, assuming our future is secure with answers to our inquiries, when it never is, it never was.
All my daydreaming about you is primarily awestricken by your presence, though we have been together for so long! But my uncontrolled mind consistently oscillates between paranoia and bliss about our relationship. The anxiety is that you would be gone like you have always done and be gone for a long time. Waiting has no value during your absences because my summons does not even reach my ears, let alone yours! Suppose we become separate for an eternity. In that case, how can we become more confident about recreating our relationship? Hope—sometimes a fantasy—cradles with the assurance that you will not abandon me anywise.
Often, after a hiatus, when you return to my realm, the sensation of change in the cadence and style of our conversation is striking. Your anatomy, complexion, and smile would change, the intonation of your voice would be different, and your gait would be slower or faster but never the same. Slowly and admirably, my mind would slip into ease, as if we were getting to know each other for the first time. We would begin to share dreams in a different light and with different vocabulary in our many silent conversations without the fear of misunderstanding each other. This is how heaven would be—where differences of opinion always find a familiar, negotiated island without painful heartache. These are all in my thoughts; remind me.
Sometimes, the world seems unkind and unforgiving; the laws constrain us to maintain civility. Time dictates our vulnerability, and the seasons control our nourishment. But when you and I are together, even with my eyes closed shut, the laws of physics and mathematics suspend—as if to give us a break. Even if that halt is brief, nothing seems impossible in our Sakoon -a happy and peaceful state of mind where no trace of fear lingers longer than an Anupol. A placid, quiet, serene tranquility gives us the amenity that the moments are ours. It is peace. When we find it, we instantly know. As if discovering the hidden self, the Mon (heart) within another being.
Sakoon
The term ‘Pur Sakoon’ comes from Urdu (language) and refers to a state of mind free from worry and characterized by happiness and peace.