by Indumeet Kour
It’s a beautiful evening- the sun casts its warm, golden glow on the lush green grass of the meadow and makes it look absolutely ethereal and magical, as if the grass itself is glowing. I therefore stop seeing the sun.
There’s nothing else to be seen, just a long vast stretch of land covered with grass. Some wildflowers here and there give it a pop of color: pink, yellow, orange. The sky is a vast sea of blue in comparison. I therefore stop seeing the sky.
There are some people far-off in the distance. They are taking pictures of themselves. But the horizon seems like a perfect confluence of two worlds where everything is in harmony. I therefore stop seeing the people.
In the meadow, there are big, ugly transmission towers that carry electricity from a distant river to a distant city. But there are bugs buzzing over the wildflowers on the meadow floor. I therefore stop seeing the steel towers.
Along the narrow road that cuts right across the meadow, there are cars chugging along- white, grey, black- all drab and hideous. But I see a hoopoe looking for worms right in front of me. I therefore stop seeing the cars.
At the end of the meadows is a mountain range, and their snowcapped peaks look beautiful. I can feel the gentle breeze on my skin, and warmth of the sunlight making me realize that this is peace. Peace is in little moments of life, the ones that we have stopped seeing. I always come to this place whenever I want to take a step back from life and just exist. I then stop worrying about my problems.
