One evening, near the sea, I gazed at the vastness of the shimmering land. The clear, cold and shimmering waters, against the warmth of the setting sun, added red hues to the sky. The beauty of nature and the glory in watching it were such that I had been totally lost in it. How blissful is it to gaze at something even more breathtaking and beautiful than the most beautiful masterpieces of jewellery, while watching the sun set against the snug beach, draped in a sarong, so light that it flared against the breeze. How astounding it is, I thought to myself.
I wanted to freeze the moment as if in an ageless womb. Suddenly, the insecurity of it being seized away took over my heart, deep, with the hollow of the resounding notes of the birds fluttering above, and filled up to the brim with an inexplicable melancholy. If nature is so beautiful, why are we wreaking havoc on it? If nature is the epitome of peace and serenity, why does mankind not get satisfied? Why are we propelled by the intensity to destroy it? I intently thought to myself. The customary fear that comes along with passion was nipping away at my toes.
That evening, I couldn’t sleep in peace. My mind was full of screams, blotted with the imprints of a dead, devastated nature. Memories of the past haunted me. I was scared. I thought: if I were a bird, how would I feel to be homeless? If I were a tree, how would I feel to be chopped into pieces? If I were a butterfly, how would I feel when I had no buttercups to feed on? I shivered at the thought. I was overcome with an intense terror. I thought to myself how would I, as a human, feel to be rendered homeless? To be stabbed innumerable times? To be mercilessly thrown against the vast victims of hunger and poverty? How would I feel? Questions of existence lingered in my mind. Perhaps, my flitting against the bed that night arose from the intensity of the questions I longed to ask my fellow beings. How would you feel?