Pacific

In relation to ‘solitude’, Rainer Maria Rilke writes about the aspects of solitude, such as it leads to the discovery of personhood and acceptance of feelings like pain, sadness, anxiety, depression etc; former, as he writes in one of his correspondences with a friend about his meeting with his mother. Lewis Hyde describes the correspondence as consisting of the description of sympathetic intelligence  [1] where one ‘inwardly’, which might mean sub-consciously, completes someone’s gestures. The concept of ‘inwardness’ becomes coherent as Hyde describes that Rilke’s ability to identify with others led to the ramification of losing his own identity. Thus, solitude for the discovery of personhood. Latter, as Rilke believed that art requires an artist to accept such emotions instead of attempting to avoid it by being constantly attempting to interact with others & become social as it is not possible to achieve; thus, the state of mind as sadness should not be wallowed over as thou...

 For about nineteen years my mother has irrigated a barren land such that it never stopped sprouting long after she left the land and moved to another place. However, what followed next gave me a vantage to conclude this piece, especially after encountering a specific writing of Ruskin Bond which invoked an epiphany and at that moment, I could see four years of struggle to write this, and the past twenty-one years of my mother’s life align in perfect symmetry to reveal a discrete constellation, and everything made sense magically. I have spent four years with an inspiration to write this for my mother without meeting due actions to the inspiration. ‘Trees and plants always look like the people they live with somehow.’ (pg-35; A Little Book Of Magical Plants . Ruskin Bond) My mother is quite fond of plants. However, the source or the reasons of her fondness remain inexplicable to me, if at all reasons were ever needed to be fond of something. Somedays, I am inclined to ...

  Our manoeuvres were unstoppable for two weeks in a row. It started in the month of April and the sun had been pouring wrath like never before. We were incessantly working with zeal while profusely sweating. Then one day, there was a burst of clouds followed by thunderstorm. The thunderstorm came as a respite right after sunset. Later, it rained unabated for hours after hours till morning. I was drenched under rain along with others that night. I could not pay attention to feelings as long as I was dealing with the work in hands. It was until we took shelter under a shanty that I realised how cold I was inside and shivering outside. I saw people running covering their heads under flickering streetlights flanked on both sides of the roads. Some felt passion for rain while others felt against it. I felt nothing but cold. The parched ends in my chest were frayed under the pattering rain and tore open. I felt as cold as though the rain was pouring only on me. I felt lonely and my ...