Lines of rhythmic beauty

They were pearls round Mother Nature's neck.

 The sky was gloomy as was my mood. It had been raining. I went outside not for the fun of it but just to give me a boost. At such times, you cannot but help being but yourself, because it's Mother Nature conspiring to take you by the collar. I am susceptible to cold and cough. But my spirit got the better of me and I decided to take myself out without an umbrella.

I was being completely with myself. No phone calls, occasional smiles, the pitter- patter of the rain and then as I rested my heavy self on a slab, I looked up to see the beauty Mother Nature thankfully presented.

A plant with drops of rain on the edge of its leaves. Nothing new to nature lovers. No, not even me. But there it was revealing itself to me-- my beauty. I was there just in time to get the glimpse. The fading light would not have allowed me to participate in full measure had I been late, or had I allowed my mind to continue being clouded.

There they were in line, as if they were told to. They stayed and swayed, attached to the leaves. The leaves prided themselves with so rapt an attention from the stranger. The drops remained, in the complete knowledge of being with the leaves just for the night and the next morn.

 Happiness in the moment is a treasure of a lifetime. The leaves knew their time span and their own and accepted the earthly beauty with no pretence but credulity. There was charm only in so much as the drops gave them, not in their own being.
I walked with the valued steps that my breath count measured; the beauty thrust upon me by nature.
I am different from the leaf. There is lustre within, where my spiritual self gives me the joy of seeing the same as new.

    The light consoled my being and I got occasional glimpses of  a white light from the left corner of my eye. Hallucinating may be....but flashes of it inundated the innermost recesses with a deliberate passion. The passion to create, the same thing with newness.
I had drawn a picture on Global Warming, in so much as to utilise the valued time in the morning when it did not rain but the idea presented by some others were striking and the marvel in my eyes reflected in their for the one I made. Nothing new, yet there is. In the thought, the vision, the expression and the articulation.

My mind was weighed down by the week's consolidated units and it would have no better a chance given itself to think of anything better had not the rain drenched the heat of my being and designed itself on the leaf edges. So much is going around the world outside. Nothing affects when one is encased voluntarily in one's coccoon.
 I felt sleepy, came to my room and graced myself with that comfort.

But  my mind continued to hum its own tunes. I could only close my eyes. Sleep didn't get an entry pass. I thought of stuffs like physical fitness and laughed at my failed efforts and things that matter none to any thinking being. Then suddenly the strings appeared to play a different tune--- in harmony with those of the pearls on the edge of the leaf.

The superior being manifested its splendour by giving me ideas of pouring out my feelings in a form of a poem through  a power point presentation. My sponsored thought was one of physical exercise and as if as a relief this thought of giving it visual effects seemed more of creativity and fun; more alluring. I looked at myself, talking expressively about the very idea and recording it. Sometimes we become crazy you know.

 To some, I know, I am being selfish. What thought have I given for the Mumbaikars who suffered another tragedy? But then, what can I do save sympathise with them?  Nature is no enemy of man. The artist's hand shapes what the mind captures and here I am glorifying the tenets of beneficiaries blessed on me. I am just being myself.