Solitude..

Sometimes I like to dissociate from myself and narrate my life’s mundane activities as if they were a story.

“She realized as she expertly buttered hot, browned toast and simultaneously poured boiling water into the cafetiere, that she didn’t like other people making her breakfast. They never could achieve the same perfection. Either the toast wasn’t toasted enough or it was cold and over buttered or the coffee wasn’t strong enough. Things weren’t prepared with the timing kept in mind. It all had to be done ‘together’ and then eaten IMMEDIATELY. She knew of no one else who had such a finicky, fastidious obsession for the ‘right’ breakfast.”

Morning is my time. It’s for me. There is a need for absolute silence. The walk in the park at sunrise, eagerly awaited breakfast of aromatic coffee and hot buttered toast, chirping birds, open terrace doors and the sweet breeze floating in. It’s the perfect start to the day. No one should disturb this blissful solitude, not even the best companion. The moment that first sip of brewed, fresh bitter coffee takes its effect and my brain comes alive, I start feeling the power. I can do it all. The world’s infinite possibilities are open before me. Today is the day I can start availing them properly. I can begin projects and be creative and call anyone. Pure happiness courses through me.i often think of writing excellent pieces expressing profundity. It has not happened yet. The inspiration, desire, peace all came and encouraged me but just as speedily went away either disappointed at my lack of performance or just as futile and unfocussed as I was.

The afternoons are for dreaming. For TV, novels, watching sunlight bounce off the walls. Lonely sleepy silence in a cool tranquil room. Things of course need to be done- but maybe in a while- an hour, ten minutes, soon.

I won’t lie to you. I like to be by myself. I like my company. I like doing my ‘stuff’. I know it is selfish but I enjoy it so much. Much more than sitting with a bunch of people (whether family, acquaintances or friends) talking of Nothing. What a terrible waste of time. So unconstructive. I start to resent them, their voices, their aimless chitter chatter and laughing at all the oft repeated remarks. They look at me out of the corner of their eye to pick up on even a slight frown of boredom or forced interest on my part that they can pounce on and get offended by.

Why can’t people be more like me? Content in their own occupations, hobbies, laziness, dreams? Why must they always travel in packs and herds and make noises to validate their existence. It’s so lovely to be silent, to be quiet, to be listening, to be ready .It’s true it isn’t the very best way of spending time either, but maybe in all that silent reflection and thinking, a moment of truth, of discovery, of clarity can shine through and make it worthwhile.

I agree communication between living beings is integral- a necessity for society to progress, but, God can’t their voices not be braying and baaing but be sweeter and softer?