I stared into the sky. It was pitch dark. The clouds had covered everything — the stars and the moon. And rendered the sky into a mysterious void that appeared like some half-forgotten dream which hangs over you even after you are awake while you try hard to remember what the dream was.
It was two in the night and I was walking alone on a beach. A gentle wind was flowing. Everything was quiet like death. Except for the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Again and again and again. Natures’ way of playing a song in a loop. Only, one can never outgrow of this melody. Of this melodious cosmic rhythm.
I have always loved walking on the beach. Enjoyed listening to the sound of sea singing. The waves approaching and retracting. Sometimes kissing your feet tenderly. At others licking them ravenously. Never getting tired of you. Or of your existence. Coming back again and again like a spring. Or like the memory of a young girl with whom you had shared your first kiss. Whom you’d really loved and hoped to be with one day.
Clouds parted. Sky shimmered. Whiteness poured down. And the sea moaned in ecstasy. I stopped to take it all. To drink with my eyes this wonderful moment. It was breathtaking.
The waves, like a clock, kept on crashing against the beach.
Time stopped in the wake of this recurring rhythm, among the sound of the crashing waves against the silent backdrop of the night.
Enchanted and enthralled in this melody, time was no more pulled forward by the force of the seconds or the minutes or the hours. It no more rushed or hurried from one moment to another. Among the rising and the falling waves, something magical happened. Something peaceful.
And time tightened its reins, stopped moving and froze. Stopped existing as we know it and hung in the air like a weightless smoke. Barely moving. Still as if hypnotized by this master hypnotist. This Nature.
And to think of it, why should time move forward in the first place? Time had no purpose moving forward among these waves and whiteness. On such dreamy night. What would it do moving forward when it could take birth and die, again and again, in the present. In this very moment when it could find nothingness and infinity in the same breath. When everything was perfect. Everything was alive.
Being in this moment made me, somehow, more real, more living than ever. It made every atom of my body vibrate in sync with the vibrations of the universe. There was resonance. I could feel it in my soul. In my existence.
I stopped and let out a deep sigh.
It was my last night here. Last night before I would resume the regular life. When I would rush from the morning till night. From this to that. One thing to another. When I would lose this connection with myself, with this universe, which I was feeling right now. When every day would be like a rote learning, repeating every other moment, but not learning at all.
I wished in that moment that time would stop — like an image in a photograph, capturing me in it, so that I go on living in it forever. Neverending.