The sea was rough.The choppy waters smashed against the rockface that stood tall in defiance even after centuries of pounding. Sitting at the top, a couple of hundred feet off sea level, one coudnt help but feel the power of the mighty ocean. The air smelt salty and the horizon seemed to extend forever. The gentle rays of the sunset seemed to cast its magic spell on the horizon seemingly penning a myriad of colors on the already artistic sky. The breeze was gentle but steady. The magical feeling of the wind blowing in one's hair made me get lost in a reverie of my own.
My attention was suddenly drawn towards a sharp cry in the air. Looking above i saw a seagull soaring in all its glory. There was something about this bird that caught my attention. This was a remarkably young bird, probably a few months old. But its demeanor and flight belied its age. Stanley as i would like to call him had feathers which were pristine white almost giving him a holy aura. The flapping of its wings was graceful and rhythmic. Stanley seemed to own the sky even though he was a novice in flying. Stanley seemed to fly for the joy of flying unlike most birds. He would fly up to dizzying heights and then glide down gracefully in one single motion. This went on for quite some time until his flight looked like a ballerina in top form. With each passing loop he swooped faster and faster.Fear definetly was not known to him. His wings were still frail and under developed. But this didnt deter him. All that mattered was that there was a sun in the sky and a cool draft in the air. He took to the sky like a duck to water. Soaring amidst the clouds and sometimes close to the water surface to hunt for food, he was the epitome of grace.
My attention was suddenly drawn towards a sharp cry in the air. Looking above i saw a seagull soaring in all its glory. There was something about this bird that caught my attention. This was a remarkably young bird, probably a few months old. But its demeanor and flight belied its age. Stanley as i would like to call him had feathers which were pristine white almost giving him a holy aura. The flapping of its wings was graceful and rhythmic. Stanley seemed to own the sky even though he was a novice in flying. Stanley seemed to fly for the joy of flying unlike most birds. He would fly up to dizzying heights and then glide down gracefully in one single motion. This went on for quite some time until his flight looked like a ballerina in top form. With each passing loop he swooped faster and faster.Fear definetly was not known to him. His wings were still frail and under developed. But this didnt deter him. All that mattered was that there was a sun in the sky and a cool draft in the air. He took to the sky like a duck to water. Soaring amidst the clouds and sometimes close to the water surface to hunt for food, he was the epitome of grace.
Engrossed in this graceful display ,i lost all track of time and space. I was shaken out of my reverie by the sudden beep of my cell phone bringing me back to the rude and lack-lustre modern world.Driving back home along the sea-coast, I couldnt help but compare Stanley's young life to mine. I was probably in the same stage in my life as Stanley. Having just got onto my own feet , I was finding my way through the various hurdles in life. But i found one startling difference. Unlike Stanley, I wasnt enjoying the journey. For me the journey is just a means to the destination which itself is very abstract. In the process, I realised I was just squandering away all this precious time when there is so much to experience and enjoy. Stanley's unending enthusiasm and quest for the impossible gave me new hope. It made me understand the importance of trying to push the extremes of one's ability which in most cases is nothing but a mirage of the mind. I realised that it is the journey that matters in most cases and not the destination.This little bird left an indelible mark on me leaving me a changed person for life...