~~ Concerns-24 ~~

~~~~~~~~ Concerns-24.~~~~~~~~
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24062011
© Vinay Vaidya.

Days were passing in silence.
The very being was suffused by it. You had not
invited it, it came to you in its own way, you 
could neither invite it nor turn it away from you.
You had just been aware of the functioning of the
mind. How it moves in grooves, set patterns. How
your attention was driven to your mind was something
you can never know. But it happened. You were going
on the walk as usual and were a bit tired, sad. That's
all. You were expecting nothing. Just vaccum were you.
You were going along the narrow road, where traffic 
at this hour was very low, only a car, or some vehicles
passed through occasionally, and you walked without 
bothering about them.The sky was blue and clear, and 
there were a few clouds around the sun.  
A silence was within, and another outside.
They often merged into one-another, and one could 
not distinguish between the two, but while writing this, 
one 'becomes' 'some-one'.
Yet another, self-subsisting, self-sustaining myth.
When the thought talks about it, thought conjures-up
it, and takes it as a reality, subjective as well objective
at the same time while thought crawls like a snake, 
scared of its own shadow, that lurks in the light of 
consciousness, in the back-ground of the silence that is 
outer and that is inner, or the words 'outer' and 'inner' 
no more apply to it. A light, a silence, that thought can
neither perceive, nor grasp. 
Thought springs-up in the brain like a tiny seedling,
and becomes a fully developed giant tree, nay, a forest,
with its own flora and fauna. It all takes place in a whiff
of a moment that thought itself gives birth to. Thought
can but sure see the shadow, its own image, and the 'one',
that has 'become' 'some-one', falls a prey to it, -the myth.
The myth that grows beyond unseemly dimensions, unseen
horizons, yet strongly tethered to the thought. It is always 
frightened of the explosion that might occur any moment,
and annihilate it to nothing. Explosion is as certain as the 
'writing on the wall'.

But the Silence prevailed, and nothing could stir it from 
its vibrant stillness. It breathed through the inner and through
the outer. It knew nothing about the thought and its plight,
yet thought always played on its lap. Thought owned its own
separate existence as a myth. Thought, the myth survived and
kept growing. The two movements were altogether unknown
to one-another.

You carried on the routine work, the daily chores. 
The evening and morning walks, unknown to every one, yet
no one was unknown to you, though you never knew their
names, thoughts and feelings. They were people just like you,
All were the mighty silence, which thought could possibly touch
not. For thought could hardly sense it.
You were in a courtship. Day in, and day out.
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And one day the thought exploded all of a sudden, in a quite
unexpected moment, which was not of thought, which was never 
thought of.
The Silence prevailed, breathing through the inner and breathing 
through the outer.  

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