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| Beautiful India | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| BY Laura Jayne-Anne Comer | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I set the scene in beautiful India. Imagine the sun rising to the sweet sound of sitars. The rays shining on the temple peaks of gold. Smell the spicy aromas wakening your senses. The sound of a prodigal child, a boy, lures you from the smog of the rooftops and into the bustling street life below. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You walk through a crowded market. You feel happy and comfortable with the smiling people. The people are even happier than you, because you are amongst them. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| An old wise man adorned with a white turban and long twisted beard smiles up at you. You stop and smile back at him. He holds up a small child, who is smiling too and you take the naked baby with you, in your search for it?s clothing. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You walk out of this market scene and into fresh, green land. At a clear trickling stream you halt. You gaze into the water, expecting your reflection. A world of water spirits is opened up for you and you accept the invitation. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| In the water you glide underneath the surface. The baby smiles all the more. You breathe the clearest air you have ever known. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A dazzling water princess swims to the child in your arms. You see her eyes filled with love. Her delicate hands rap around the tiny person as if it were made of the finest glass or crystal. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The baby twists a loving fist round the goddess?s thumb. You allow her to take it, for you know she will be happier than you could possibly imagine with the small child. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The goddess presses her sweet lips on your palm. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You watch her glide into the distance with the child, taking her watery world with her. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You blink and are surrounded by hot burning coals. You feel the skin on your feet scold and you smell the burning darkness, which encloses you. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Evil appears in the form of a loved one. You know this is evil but are deceived by the familiar image. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You are directed to follow this image by it?s ushering hand which distorts as it moves. You feel dizzied by this. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You move forward and coals stick to the soles of your feet. The pain becomes unbearable and you open your mouth to call out but the only thing projected is silence. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The evil image transforms into a swarm of faces, which you know all. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You drop to your knees pleading for kindness. The faces express mocking smirks. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You let a single tear fall down your cheek. It falls onto the coals and this burning is extinguished. You let all the tears flow. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You form a great river in the desert with your tears. You are praised by the native beings, they can now service. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You walk away from this scene and enter a mountainous, snow-filled continent. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You climb to the top of the tallest peak. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Sliding down the slope, head first, your childhood flame is rekindled. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You arrive back in the market place and the wise old man is smiling at you once more. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A sense of de j�vu creeps up your neck. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You smile back and the sound of sitars arouses your hearing. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Your eyes open and you are staring at your ceiling. Your heart sinks and a lump arrives in your throat. You feel an overwhelming sense of loss. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You try and recall your adventure but reality weighs you down. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You are on an on-going search for your dream world in this world. ?Is it possible?? you asked yourself ?Is it possible?? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The worlds are united by an ongoing search for heaven, utopia, bliss. Only from this searching can our dream-worlds be possible. We only have to dream alike. Anything is possible even if not in reality, it can still happen. Maybe one day we will all be in my beautiful India. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
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