Who needs a bucket list when we have life on our side?

Daily Prompt : What’s the 11th item on your bucket list?

Bucket list? I am not a list person at all who checks off things as done or not done. Life is organic, (mis)happening  in bits and pieces – scattered all over the rainbow of time and space.

To me – what is the purpose of being somewhere or doing something if it is just to stroke an ego? Can all the check marks contain the high/low lights of a lifetime? Of course, not!

I believe that the fun is in a constant, dynamic process of a journey or an attempt; a couple of failures that most certainly will occur and the return gift of learning. Hitting the gold after all this, is miniscule in value as compared to the process. Or perhaps, this has to do with my getting older. Earlier, I used to nourish the idea of pristine beaches; renting a cottage in virgin snow-clad mountains or strolling carelessly in a posh European city or writing something extra-ordinary in a certain exotic place at an important day and time. But my perception has evolved – every moment, every day has become important and every place that I visit, including my home has become exotic for it is my own, original life.

Yet, I have come up with a few things that I may still have an appetite for and most certainly, they are less than eleven:

  •  To sit by a river bank for at least an hour and listen to the flowing water and describe every sound, every reflection, every movement in a long paragraph. I believe that will be one of the most sacred observations of my life. Rivers are origin of life and land. If there is anything that needs to be learned of non-permanence; one can realize it by watching a flowing river over rocks, gravel, soil gracefully and patiently, taking its own time to nurture and erode.
  •  To observe a farmer working on his fields. I believe earning livelihood by hard, physical labor is something that touches our basic side. I wish to see(season-willing) how the earth is kneaded , how the seeds are dispersed, how water is brought into fields and how animals on a cart, a pair of human hands and mother earth prepare a meal.
  • To sit under a shade of an old Banyan in summer, outside a village and read my favorite Hindi literature. Probably have tea in a thermos by my side, sip the text along with it. Occasionally, look up and watch simmering shrubs in the open, a few annoying flies buzzing around and poke in the soil wondering what might have happened here thousand years ago.
  • To spend a night in a cottage with meager means; to sleep on a mattress laid out on the floor and stare at the small, low-wattage bulb wondering if electricity is wiped off in an instant, would we stop being slaves to our gadgets; would time then be on our side? Will the nagging question “Whats on your mind” leave us alone?
  •  To eat a meal in the foothills of Himalayas. To climb some of its arrogant rocks and watch the world engaged in its mindless spin from a distance. To sit there for some time and fill my lungs with sacred air and my eyes with holy, untouched surroundings covered with wildflowers,grass, weeds and their invisible ecosystem.
  •  To rent a small room with a bathroom and kitchen in a remote town and write incessantly; to stroll outside in lazy afternoons and sit in a rural marketplace blooming with a riot of color and people and their romances – to watch them kiss, hug and catch the sparks that’d fly between them.
  • To sit in my patio night after night and watch the eclipsed moon under the clouds. To feel void of thoughts even if for second – to meditate on the moment as its passing by and looking me in the eye.
  • To take up a pottery lesson and make a beautiful pot.
  • To stop wishing and living instead.

As you can see, its is work in progress on the last one.




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