Salvation lies within

Beneath those pale eyelids his mind was steering the mighty ship which sailed across the mass density of sub-consciousness. For a sea and lagoon, an estuary may serve as the border, but there is no transition period to separate consciousness and subconsciousness. One has to surge through the roaring tides, braving the whirlpool of dreams to reach the shores of consciousness; and till then, one has to wander in those betraying waters in search of shores.

He has to find his way back to the shores, as he is destined. That’s the sad part of the journey, no matter how mesmerizing and thrilling this voyage may be, he has to return back to the shores. Call it the cyclic nature of human life or the irresistible movements of karmic cog wheels, he landed back like a seasoned sailor and opened his eyes to find himself within a white hall.

Imagine, what you would feel, when you open your eyes to find that you are all alone, standing in the middle of a large white hall. His face reflected the same awe and wonder when his eyes took in that big huge hallway drenched in whiteness. With a swift turn of the head, he managed a quick glance of the hall. Underneath his bare feet was the premium Italian white marble which is finely polished to sparkle. Above his head laid the white ceiling with its deep bottom lost somewhere high, may be in the sky.

He stood there, in the middle of nowhere as he fed his senses with the new found exotic sight, while the four walls of the hall existed somewhere beyond he could set his eyes. His reflection on the polished floor mirrored his body sheathed in the glimmering cloak of nudity. His well toned body, sculpted muscles and his heaving chest synchronized with rhythmic breathing, projected the animal side of his personality. Without this sophistication and the power of reasoning man will no more be a social animal but an animal, that animal with raw, cruel and barbarian instincts.

He got more adjusted to the new environment with every second passed by, and the explorer in him took the charge. His breath became faster and ragged, and he rubbed his hands out of excitement. Then and only then, he felt that something else, soft and fluffy is squirming between his hands. He raised his both palms to the eye level and examined closely to find a broken piece of thread. “Thread ! How did this piece of thread get entangled to my hand?” His confused mind mused while his responsive brain acted at the same time to make him take a quick turn and to let him see the answer for himself.

It’s not one nor two or three, but thousand billions of threads are being hung down from high, maybe the ceiling. “How did I miss this panorama of colorful threads”, he mouthed the words in disbelief. With his outstretched hand and eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, he welcomed the chirpy procession of threads. He saw the threads of various colors and hues, of short and long, twisted and twirled, and many other types. He walked through the threads touching and feeling various textures, prints and designs, metallic and fibrous, silk, wool, cotton, linen and many others. His legs automatically lead his way, just like a perfectly keyed toy, as he felt these threads with his hands and eyes.

When one gets excited, he feels like doing many things, but some get excited to that level that they just forget what to do and simply stands there, while the mind continues to linger within the pleasure. Our man has also met with the same excitement. Every now and then, here and there, his mind got struck to the threads of a particular color or texture, but there are many other threads which he wanted to catch, but confused on which one to pick, which is the best thread, which thread has the most beautiful color, which thread has the finest texture, which one has the lovely design. Oh, questions are many, so are the answers and threads. But his mind never budged to settle on one and he kept on walking in search of that best thread.

He would be checking one thread, and then his eyes would catch another thread of lovely color causing him to discard the previous one, then and there to catch the new one. But before he could finalize on that one, he would find another one and go after it and so on. But he seldom knew that his hands and hairs are getting tangled with in the threads and as he moved forward, he is straining the loop, thus making the thread to twist or twirl or sometimes to break. Sometimes, he would have almost made the decision and plucked his thread, but then his eyes picks up another thread of better color, texture or design and he goes after the new found one without bothering about the previous one.

But have you ever bothered to think that is all about jumping from one option to another and then to a new one, and not having a final choice. Did you care to wonder when will this man would choose a thread after examining all his choices and weighing all available options, finally making that one to be the thread he wants to keep. Sometimes it could also happen that after checking out each and every thread, he mishandles all of them and even reject those threads he had thought of keeping but had found new threads to replace the old ones. Or he is just messing the threads making them broken, shrunken and soiled while he is running among the threads on his spree of excitement, thus wasting away all the threads.

It is also possible that, maybe, after so many choices and rejections, our guy will be able to find out what kind of thread he wants, which color will suit him more, which design will make him look good or which fiber type will be more comfortable to him. He might learn from his deeds and comes up with his final choice. And when he finally settle down with that single thread, he would understand that only that thread will mean more important to him. Only that thread, the final choice matters to him more, and the rest of all threads cease to exist for him. Yes, all other threads would disappear into the thin air, leaving him and his thread all alone in that huge brilliantly lit hallway, while the hallway and the man bonded to each other by that single strand of thread; single yet powerful.

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