It was not the usual good morning songs on channel V that woke me.
It was not my friends getting ready for their morning walk that woke me.
The wailing of a police car or was it an ambulance or a fire engine...
Whatever it was, the noise woke me up as i tossed and turned on a bed that was too cosy and too fluffy for my liking.
I flicked aside the curtains to gaze at a sky that was still hazy from the receding darkness and sleep of yester night.Towering apartments and office buildings, scintillating signboards slowly fading in the morning light...
Vehicles like matchbox replicas, speeding down the highway...
The Sydney Harbour Bridge at a distance...
The Opera house playing hide and seek from behind a concrete tower. A man made jungle...
Then I saw the sun in a concrete horizon, between two towering buildings...
Rising with a smile, reflecting the warmth and hope of a brand new day…
In that moment, stuck in a concrete jungle, I saw the grace of nature blending with the towering dreams of mankind
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Fingers of God
Am Down Under and its broad daylight at 19:00. Well this certainly is new to me.
Night sets in at that hour up in that part of the globe where i hail from.
The inhabitants would be immersed into the new found excitement of reality shows and soap operas on t.v. Yes, we do have our very own desi versions of 'American Idol' and 'So you think you can dance' and millions glued to the idiot box. This time around though, the fingers are not fiddling with the remotes, eyes glued to the screen, their fingers are glued to the mobile - busy sending sms for their favourite candidates.
Did i ever dream of sitting in the 9th floor of an office building in Sydney, looking at the clouds floating in a blue sky being rapidly painted black?
I dont have any recollection of such a dream, yet here i am seeing it unfold before me. A summer sun painting the sky scarlet, while fluffy dark clouds move in shouting ' Thats enough from you for the day Mr.Sun'.
God seems to play the mediator. I can see fingers of light seperating a angry young cloud from punching the receding sun.
Even as the battle seems to end, we only know too well that Sun will rise back to the glory of his azure blue kingdom tomorrow.
Night sets in at that hour up in that part of the globe where i hail from.
The inhabitants would be immersed into the new found excitement of reality shows and soap operas on t.v. Yes, we do have our very own desi versions of 'American Idol' and 'So you think you can dance' and millions glued to the idiot box. This time around though, the fingers are not fiddling with the remotes, eyes glued to the screen, their fingers are glued to the mobile - busy sending sms for their favourite candidates.
Did i ever dream of sitting in the 9th floor of an office building in Sydney, looking at the clouds floating in a blue sky being rapidly painted black?
I dont have any recollection of such a dream, yet here i am seeing it unfold before me. A summer sun painting the sky scarlet, while fluffy dark clouds move in shouting ' Thats enough from you for the day Mr.Sun'.
God seems to play the mediator. I can see fingers of light seperating a angry young cloud from punching the receding sun.
Even as the battle seems to end, we only know too well that Sun will rise back to the glory of his azure blue kingdom tomorrow.
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