Catching up with my breath, I stretched myself comfortably on the soft ground that sunk slightly under the weight of my body. Removing my ear-plugs, I feasted my eyes on the canvas that Mother Nature had spread lavishly before me.
The fine grainy brown sand interspersed with dark black grains of its similar kind had woven together into a mesmerizing geometric pattern which a weaver would love to replicate it on his loom with cotton or silk threads. Perhaps the artisan sought refuge in the lap of Nature for his inspiration.
I sat in Vajrasana# pose, practicing my breathing exercises. The Bay of Bengal breeze blowing on my face managed to cool my mind, body and spirit. This is Nirvana, I concluded. The turbulent waves, surf and sand formed an inseparable trio to complete the perfect picture.
On the lonely beach, my mind was distracted by some movement. I opened my eyes to see an eight year old girl searching for an appropriate spot. She did not seem to be a tourist or an early morn jogger.
“What is your name and where do you live?” I asked her.
“Saraswati” said she and gestured with her index finger to the distant settlement of thatched huts, indicating her place of stay. She belonged to the fishermen community.
She had settled down on the steep reclining slope of the beach and instantly her deft hands started to knead the wet grainy sand into heaps of un-uniform shapes. In no time a small castle was ready. She then decorated the castle with sea-shells and flowers that she had brought along with her. Saraswati then admired her creation and wrote her name on sand as any famed painter would sign off, putting a stamp of exclusivity.
Satisfied, Saraswati came and sat beside me, smiling exposing her toothless gum. Her strands of hair were flying with the wind and she curled them and secured them with an aid of a pin. I watched her movements with growing fascination.
The turbulent waves lashed the shore with vengeance, each wave outdoing the other in the mad dance of frenzy, receding away, taking with them Saraswati’s masterpiece. I felt sad for the girl but there was no trace of any emotion of regret or sadness on Saraswati’s tanned face.
“You should have built the castle far away from the waves”, said I, trying in vain to console the little girl.
“The sea has given birth to the sand and the sand will ultimately go into the sea’s womb ”, answered Saraswati .
This reply of hers drenched me completely. The little girl belonging to the fishermen community was an ocean of knowledge and I felt myself like a grain of sand in her presence. I felt drawn towards her. She had managed to condense a colossal philosophy into an oyster and had mouthed pearls of wisdom. True. Nature is the Supreme Creator and Destroyer too and humans play a small role in this process. But the irony is that mortal beings tend to put themselves on a higher pedestal and forget or choose to ignore that they are mere puppets attached to a string and Nature holds the reins. Today I have attained Nirvana.
* Nirvana is an ancient Sanskrit term used in Indian religions to describe the profound peace of mind that is acquired with moksha(liberation). It is a state of being free from suffering.
# vajrasana - Yoga- The practitioner sits on the heels with the calves beneath the thighs. This pose helps in digestive issues like constipation and strengthens the muscles of the legs and back.