As if I could spend the eternity gazing into the boundless, open sky and the jaw-dropping expanse that encompassed my every breath and dimension. I stood there rooted to the wooden plank in conjunction with the ferry, taken aback by the gaping view and let the exuberance take over my spirit.
The city was only a ten minute ferry-ride from my coordinate. While it seemed quite convenient and time-preserving, I was compelled to give it a second thought. Irrespective of the religion, age, gender, community the ferry serves as common mode of transport to the localites. The boat held a dozen more commuters, with and without their mopeds and bicycles as it set forth towards its destination across the mighty river. I sat on the edge staring at the profound beauty and the sprawling green which kept moving further away with every growl of the engine motor.
For most of the passengers, the transit was a routine affair which was quite evident from the way they kept rambling in their localized dialect without taking any slight note of the welcoming panorama. I, on the contrary sat like a monk who had discovered his sanctum and let the calm-inducing aura seep into my inner space.
It is a routine-driven life.
We all perform our chunk of daily tasks that steer us through the day. Getting ready for office, writing your journal, taking a medicine, Facebook, coffee, metro, Sensex, tugging the shirt buttons wrongly, visiting the neighbourhood temple, delivering your evening Namaz, headbanging to Slayer or whatsoever, puffing the holy joint, gossiping about your sister’s bestfriend’s cousin, feeding grains to the birds, searching for an ideal parking lot, not following the schedule, getting late for the class lecture, sneaking into the class lecture, sleeping.
It differs from being to being, from haves to have-nots, from father to son, from husband to wife, from passenger to passenger.
The school girl dismounted her bicycle, all set to race her way back home as I patiently waited for my turn to get on the ferry. When the sail began, the man standing beside his moped was engrossed in his cellphone; the fisherman sitting on the river bank making a livelihood from the gathered catch; the cyclewala sat quietly beside his bicycle, his legs crossed; the ferry conductor busy collecting fares, his mind absorbed in a silent computation.
Hence, we repeat and re-repeat our day everyday.So, sometimes when things do not turn up the way they are bound to be it does feel refreshing.And just like that, it was an ordinary day with its share of extraordinary moments. How amazing it seems when simple, little things like a ferry-ride to the city can make your day count.
The glowing yellow ball in the sky was sinking into the waters, tinting the sky to pinkish-tangerine. The wind gushed over my face, strewing away the tiny hair fragments which constituted my hairline. It was a soothing rush, the kind that gives you a high and makes you surrender your consciousness.
I turned back to stare at the starting junction which now looked like an insignificant dot, fading to a blur.