Reflections

There are a few things about which our feelings just don’t change. As we move on through life, we often go through several drastic changes in our own personalities. I, for instance, wouldn’t even recognize “college me”. And “college me” would think that I am a split personality between being a total nutcase and an Indian Martha Stewart. Come to think of it, college me wouldn’t recognize the woman writing this blog, or for that matter, even know who Martha Stewart is!

One of these things for me is moonlight. I have always, always been a sucker for the moon. There is something so beautiful, so pure, so magical, about it that it always calms me down and makes me feel special. There are a few moonlit nights which I distinctly remember – the “Id ka Chaand” during the Ramzan festivals, the beautiful full moon on a late night drive when I was returning from a college concert, the silvery orb that hung slightly above the office building one particularly tiring night when I left office late, the dripping line of silver from the mystic, cat’s eye like moon in Goa, the shimmering night when my dog died – covered with wounds, my tears and moonlight.

When I had first moved to Mumbai, I hated it. Mumbai was crowded, humid and extremely uncomfortable. I was extremely rattled to find that I had left the comforts of home to move into a city which kicked my ass almost every day. Just when I was feeling homesick – I saw the city bathed in the silvery moonlight – and I fell in love. The moonlight showed me what daylight hadn’t – that Mumbai was a city with a heart of its own. Over the years, my own heartbeat has got in sync with the city’s - and there is nothing I love more (except reading and doughnuts). The moon showed me that night - how much the city was a reflection of my soul. That reflection was something which could only be seen in a divine, pure, unaffected light – like the moonlight.

I believe the main reason why I love the moon is because I connect with it. The moon is never the same always – it waxes and wanes, it changes shape. I am extremely sure that whenever I saw a full moon, there seemed to be something different about it since when I last saw it. It appears as though the moon has its moods. When it’s happy – it shines silvery, illuminating everything on the earth. When it is thoughtful or pensive – it appears faded and mystical… and melts through the dark clouds surrounding it. It is as if even though the moon is aware of her feelings, she knows it is her job to shine on – and she braves through the dark clouds that threaten to envelope her.

She waxes and wanes – but that is only for us to appreciate her full value more. If we saw her in her completeness every day, we probably would have ended up taking her for granted. She reminds us that like her, life comes in a cycle. It may seem as though happiness is fading – but it is sure to return in time. It may seem as if life is getting better and better – but like the waxing moon, it is destined to reach a peak and then fade. The moon reminds us to be hopeful when everything is hopeless, and to be humble when everything seems to be wonderful.

I write this as I gaze out of my bedroom window. I realize that while I live in an area flooded with streetlights, and other white light coming from homes, I can always make out moonlight – it is silvery, it is serene, it is natural – and it is beautiful. It’s a presence – a reflection, an awareness of divinity. Like an angel gently slipping her warm hand in mine.