Clouds : And what I learnt from them
Ever think about how blue the sky is? I did when I was little, and it was often too much for my little and distracted mind to comprehend, so much that my time read about it and understand it was often rewarded by a headache or bouts of bewildered clumsiness.
The more you look, the more intriguing and fascinating it gets, and the best part of the sky are the clouds. I just love them. As a child when I had nothing better to do in the afternoons than listen to endless convictions of mother about me going to sleep, I would sneak off when she was asleep and layback in a chair in the balcony or even outside on the ground and look at the clouds. I was awed by how dynamic and transient they were, one moment you look and in the next they moved by a thousand feet!(relatively speaking). And what amazing shapes they take! I swear I once saw a huge cloud that looked like Platypus Perry without it’s hat on, and the shadow it cast on the hilly land, gently rising and falling beneath this gigantic gentle of the giant that it was. My way of adoring them was me making fantasies about the shapes of the clouds, and weaving stories out of them, upon the shapes they took. Silly stuff like the dog with a hat on his head ate the dragon’s tails and grew a lizard as one of it’s tiny little paws. Stuff that appealed to and entertained a 6 year old’s mind. To 6 year old me, nothing was better than a clear windy day with a sky full of clouds and lazy hours to spare under the gently shining sun, though it was gentle only for a little part in the day, rest of the time it was the source of scorching heat and the reason to retire inside the house and be content of the view from the window.
As I grew up, I realised how silly the exercise seemed, but like the true grownup I was, I simply waved the opportunity to find a new guilty pleasure as it passed me by and basked under the cloudy skies, whenever I had a chance.
There’s a strange similarity between the canvas in the sky and the canvas of your life, all types of clouds come and transform, just like the people in our lives. Some white as a swan, some grey with a palpable hint of thunder lurking in them, some which come and go with the wisp of wind, and some like those that bring the rain, so scary and intimidating in appearance, but those are the ones harbour the precious rain within them. Some like that Platypus Perry cloud, leave an everlasting impression in your life, and some strike lightning deep in your heart, and you find some shape-shifters too, that appear to be a huge castle on the back of the mammoth turtle, that just turn out to be a shapeless, stupid pile of mud.
Just as they say, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, the sky if different for different people, it means different things. It is the person who decides what he wants to see, one sees one’s own wishes, ambitions, and dreams-unfulfilled and ongoing alike. The canvas does not show different things to different people, it is as it as, it is the person who chooses to see and perceive it as he/she wants.
And as the canvas in the sky is not always blue, life is not always cheerful bright and happy, there are storms, there are tornadoes, and there are super storms too,but one must always remember that there always are moments of happiness, joy and love within them, and one must not get lost and baffled by the huge tempest that it is but always remember [that the stars that come out to play during the night, are vanquished by the first hopes of the sunrise] that the sun is set to rise, and with each day, brings an entirely new blank canvas wherein you can spread the colours of your choice and be the superhero you always wanted to be.