Every moment holds
romance; whether one is alive to it or not is the question. This morning I
lived through yet another definition and experience of romance.
Living in and for this
moment has been high up there in the last few days - one of those up phases of
life which one tries best to keep being in! Waking at 4:30 a.m. (before the alarm), having
a great cup of coffee with one’s mother and daughter for company, and getting
a convenient share cab to go from Tiruvanmiyur to Pondy when its not yet dawn,
all keep up with the spirit. I get into the front seat of the cab, settle the daughter
on my lap and we take off.
Initially I fuss
around the little one knowing that she will fall asleep soon enough, moving one
of her legs so that it doesn’t disturb the gears, tucking my dupatta tight over
her ears, responding with a reassuring murmur to her faint protest, and shifting
her weight a little bit to get both of us comfortable for the drive. I was
totally absorbed in this when one of the men from the back seat called out that
I roll up the windows since it would get chilly for her, to which suggestion I
smiled and replied that she wouldn’t sleep at all if the windows were closed
and AC on.
The man’s voice was
the first sound that I heard after I got into the car. Now other sounds
registered gradually. The whoosh of the wind, the sound of the car, 80s and 90s
Tamil cinema music (most public transport and travels drivers on this route seem to prefer
this, I wonder why now; Valaiosai… vaan megham…), the rising and falling drone
of the two men conversing in the back seat dwindling very slowly, occasional
drowsy voices of either of the two children with them, the whiz of vehicles
going in the opposite direction, the rare blast of a horn that starts faint,
builds to a scream and then fades or cuts off abruptly – all in the flash of a
second on such roads (the ECR)… I became aware of all of them and yet it was
not a cacophony! It may be a bit much to call it orchestra, however let me be
content saying that they were all in harmony.
I then felt my
daughter’s weight on me – she had been growing heavy with sleep. At the moment that I felt her weight, I felt
everything else that I could feel on my skin and physical sensations as well as
taste and smell, all in a flash. The pressure of my left ankle over the other
where they were crossed, the near stillness of my breath, the car seat under me
and on my back, her warmth seeping through her clothes to my right palm which
was on her back, the friction and scratching sensation in the crook of my left
elbow which was touching something coarse on her (I think there were some
threads and self design on her pants), my chilled left ear and cheek since the
wind was hitting me on that side, the increasing stress in my knees from
keeping them bent in the same position, the faint taste of coffee lingering in
my mouth and an increasing feeling of thirst, feet going to sleep, and the smells
wafting around - the faintly musty car seat, coconut hair oil, sandalwood
(soap, I am now guessing), the smell of morning (there definitely is a smell to
morning, sort of tangy), and other smells from outside that we passed from time
to time.
I saw the long straight road ahead beautifully
dark first, lightening slowly, and turned to see the sun peeping out on my left.
I felt my eyes drinking in the road and sun and everything that it was turning golden.
My personal orchestra was keeping up with me as well, effortlessly.
It was a space where
every sense was alive to all that was hitting that sense, and yet it was not
too much to handle; not one of them pulled that sense away from this space.
That is, no one was getting carried away by anything. I realised that something
similar was happening in my thoughts and mental sensations as well. For
instance, I turned and looked at the driver when his mobile phone rang and he picked
it up. All he did was murmur that he is coming back with passengers and that he
will talk later. But I picked up on his satisfaction that he had gotten
passengers and he would be getting some extra income. I also noticed that he
was alert and not sleepy although he had driven the night before as well to
drop off people at the airport. We had with us a young and really good driver
(he drove smoothly without sudden brakes and jerks and it never felt once like
he was speeding, but we were achieving quite a bit of road very quickly). Also
because it was early morning before traffic hours, and a Sunday.
However, noticing
these didn’t take me away from that being-alive space. There were not that many thoughts that occurred,
but when a thought did come, it came into that space, and then fell away as we
drove on. I simply watched the thought rise and fall. I was conscious of every sense and sensation,
yet not getting lost in or strayed by any one. At some point the thought came
that it all felt like I was making love to myself. Don’t ask me what that means
really, that is just what I felt or thought. I did not think further about it
or analyse. I was simply, gloriously
alive. The two-hour drive was pure romance, and I was aware of a feeling of
gratitude and benevolence towards the driver and my co-passengers.
