My car is parked in the open. The
beams of bright sunlight have been constantly hitting its roof since morning.
As my eyes stretch out of my gallery and from the window of my bedroom, I see
the top portions of some roofs, which are covered with blue plastic sheets,
reflecting the brightness of sunlight. I am trying to put a strong belief in
place; this is the second month of Indian monsoons. What we are faced with is a
sign of delayed monsoons ahead. If told differently, the monsoons may just
prolong themselves.
Going by the beginning of this
blog and reading through the title, may create an impression of a geological
article or an environmental thesis. Sorry to say, none of the both can be
associated with this written piece. What I wish to write now has nothing to do
with both and yet has something to do or undo, with regards to both!
July is supposed; I hope I am
writing it right when I say – July is supposed
to be the month of heavy downpour. The skies are supposed to be constantly
overcast. At least from the time, I started appreciating or avoiding the
monsoons, all months of July in my 39 seasons of monsoons, have looked the
same. But one of the Julys from the many
Julys could be figured out being different. Maybe this is just that kind of
a different July. But why am I speaking so much about this specific month, out
of the 4 crucial months of monsoon? There could be a reason.
The sunrise in the title is symbolic
of hope. The first Sunday in the
title is symbolic of inspiration. The
July in this title is symbolic of present phase of life.
From the past few months, I’ve
been witnessing the rise of a phenomenon around me. I would like to tag or label
or call this phenomenon as something vexatious#1. Even
though I have been trying my level best to ignore this evolution, I still get tousled
in its web.
The minds behind this phenomenon,
which I now label as Something Vexatious,
come with their own share of history. I would like to raise an alarm in here.
This is not exactly the kind of history someone could be proud of. This history
is truculent#2 in nature. Even though, I haven’t
dug deeper into their past. But, I am sure, they have remained this way
throughout their lives. This is what their present is all about. This is what
their future will be all about. The only exception being me and some others, supposedly like me.
As the phenomenon keeps getting
heavier and affecting optimism, my mind fluctuates between grimness of heavy
monsoons in July and expectation of sunrise someway.
Therefore, when I woke up at some
other place this morning and peeped out of the window, my eyes fell on the
beams of a sunrise, which prompted me that hope
is still alive. When my eyes fell on the calendar, it reminded me of today
being Sunday and also made me aware of the reality that inspiration is not yet
dead.
To conclude with an ode to
present phase of my life, I wish to write – Hello July. This is my month, our month to excel. No matter, where
the propellers of the vexatious phenomenon
come from, I shall triumph, we shall triumph!
-Virtuous Vociferous | July 1 | July
Blog-1 | Making of the beast | 2018
1 comment:
I for one would most certainly wish that this year be that turning point when you stop looking at July as a gloomy month and start looking at it as a month of joy and inspiration.
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