A long time ago when the planet Earth came into existence with vast water bodies and vicissitudes of land mass the canopy overhead echoed Percy Bysshe Shelley:
"Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world."
During my childhood days I wished I would open my eyes to a rose cushioned sky just before the majestic sun spread its rays over Mother Earth. But city lives are frenzy. You wake up to see concrete monoliths outside your room. Over the years on my travels I always preferred putting up at rooms with wide open windows or verandah unveiling a pie of unclogged nature. Waking up I could just gaze at a stretch, for hours, at the open sky or the lush hills or the sky kissing the sea below. Simply to devour what nature gifts us every day that we rarely acknowledge.
The sky as we see it leased mankind key ingredients for sustenance - sunlight, pregnant clouds, rain, hailstorms and a starlit marquee for the nights. Nature's aura is unrivalled. Without them the entire ecosystem would not have thrived in the first place. Notwithstanding the sky is marvellous in its embellishment. It never reveals itself without a splendid palate of hues and shades - joyous and jubilant, sadness and surprise, fear and fury, anger and antagonism.
I have often found myself fixed at an open rugged natural landscape unlacing its charm slowly to the huge canopy overhead making love. The sky radiates a unique glow sculpting its exuberance seamlessly. The euphemism is limitless. The sky, all of a sudden, can change its conniption raving and ranting in ecstasy.
In old days we did not have the privilege to study space and science and record the services of meteorologists. In villages men with good eyesight have a long history of observing and recording the weather’s ups and downs and predicting what it may do next. One can watch the film 'Swadesh' to understand how people reined in the ability to talk about the weather - well not the ignorant masses I mean.
Descrying is the blue sweep overhead - from farmers, space enthusiasts, star-gazers to kids and outdoor sportsmen all look up above the lofty sky for a glimpse of their interests and passions. It is a haven of solace and sentiments. Often people who read the sky rhetorically are mesmerised by its enigmatic behaviour - its transports one's emotions far and wide and play a Delphian dude with our ethos. Even nature spruces up to perfection.
A dark and dismal mind gifts the sky deep roots penetrating its veil looking for the essence of life wafting in out of the blue. The sky, in turn, reads our mind lifting our fettle for the glittering stars, away from pain and remorse, from sadness and shame. The sky, in its reflection on water, is contemplative of life itself. The mirror of water connotes an augury of life where the canopy ruptures to shreds. The sky is an echo of the nature's big league called 'life'.
"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky" - Rabindranath Tagore.
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world."
During my childhood days I wished I would open my eyes to a rose cushioned sky just before the majestic sun spread its rays over Mother Earth. But city lives are frenzy. You wake up to see concrete monoliths outside your room. Over the years on my travels I always preferred putting up at rooms with wide open windows or verandah unveiling a pie of unclogged nature. Waking up I could just gaze at a stretch, for hours, at the open sky or the lush hills or the sky kissing the sea below. Simply to devour what nature gifts us every day that we rarely acknowledge.
The sky as we see it leased mankind key ingredients for sustenance - sunlight, pregnant clouds, rain, hailstorms and a starlit marquee for the nights. Nature's aura is unrivalled. Without them the entire ecosystem would not have thrived in the first place. Notwithstanding the sky is marvellous in its embellishment. It never reveals itself without a splendid palate of hues and shades - joyous and jubilant, sadness and surprise, fear and fury, anger and antagonism.
I have often found myself fixed at an open rugged natural landscape unlacing its charm slowly to the huge canopy overhead making love. The sky radiates a unique glow sculpting its exuberance seamlessly. The euphemism is limitless. The sky, all of a sudden, can change its conniption raving and ranting in ecstasy.
"When you realise how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky" - Buddha.
What a journey it would be if you happen to be a floating cloud on the sky! I could traverse millions of miles effortlessly hanging loose over the earth feeling so very pleased to pass over the cherished places held dear to my heart. Globe-trotting as viewed through a 'cloud' lens.
In old days we did not have the privilege to study space and science and record the services of meteorologists. In villages men with good eyesight have a long history of observing and recording the weather’s ups and downs and predicting what it may do next. One can watch the film 'Swadesh' to understand how people reined in the ability to talk about the weather - well not the ignorant masses I mean.
Descrying is the blue sweep overhead - from farmers, space enthusiasts, star-gazers to kids and outdoor sportsmen all look up above the lofty sky for a glimpse of their interests and passions. It is a haven of solace and sentiments. Often people who read the sky rhetorically are mesmerised by its enigmatic behaviour - its transports one's emotions far and wide and play a Delphian dude with our ethos. Even nature spruces up to perfection.
A dark and dismal mind gifts the sky deep roots penetrating its veil looking for the essence of life wafting in out of the blue. The sky, in turn, reads our mind lifting our fettle for the glittering stars, away from pain and remorse, from sadness and shame. The sky, in its reflection on water, is contemplative of life itself. The mirror of water connotes an augury of life where the canopy ruptures to shreds. The sky is an echo of the nature's big league called 'life'.
"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky" - Rabindranath Tagore.
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| Random spray of amber lights donning the sky |
