My window seat

After a long wait, nearly 3 years, I’ve finally managed to get a window seat at my workplace. It is a beautiful spot to be in; especially when you would like to be left alone for any reason. I am with people, and yet, in the truest sense, I have a niche of my own. My seat is such that my back faces the window. But a single side glance is enough for me to watch the traffic; the day turning to night; huge edifices, some occupied, others waiting to be occupied.

All the things I see, send some thought or the other; few do I process, fewer do I think about and only one in a zillion thoughts do I nurture and linger on with and then write about.

My favourite part of the day by the window is the transitional period, which is not for more than 5 mins, when the afternoon sun pulls on the veil of a bride, to come forward into a beautiful evening. It’s so slow, gradual, without haste, almost divine. If you follow the transformation second by second, you will notice that there is “change” happening. What? I can’t pin-point exactly the nuances.

Today, I saw the Sun going back to its’ rest. Very slowly. There was this huge cloud that unknowingly yet authoritatively came along. Not fast, not rushing. Only gently. The Sun looked perturbed; almost dejected. Even though it was setting, it wanted to compete with this vagabond cloud which tried to overpower without warning. The sombre Sun suddenly grew brighter. It reminded me of the candle that grows brighter before diminishing forever; as if fighting a battle; or rather to make a point.

The cloud was lousy; not in mood to fight. It just kept drifting, paving a smooth way for itself. It was so sure of winning, this time.

The cloud had attacked the Sun at the Sun’s weakest.

But our ol’ Sun was not to give up easily. It used its’ rays like scissors and cut through the cloud’s weak patches and still shone. Bright, mind you.

And yet the cloud continued without a flinch.

The rays were so strong, so beautiful. Any skilled, passionate tailor would wish for a fabric of these rays. Imagine running your finger on a fabric of soft rays.

In such beautiful moments, when I am at work, and sometimes distracted, I manage to catch a glimpse or two of such a sight, it makes me feel stronger that there is a God. Every loving, ever growing, ever friendly. Just there, making his presence felt in small ways and sometimes in such loud ways like piercing through the clouds. And yet, his watcher is busy watching the man-made rays of the computer screen.

This tussle stays not for long. Eventually, the sun realises that the cloud was God-sent. Just to make the scorching day a bit pleasant for all His beings. The Sun takes a bow, in the most graceful way possible and makes way for the cloud, humbled.