to the source. Right? yes, of course, we move closer to our real selves as we sink our heads into the comforting softness of the pillow, and surrender selves to the silence falling over us, which draws us closely into its arms. I love that initial phase of my sleep, every night, when a quick rundown on all the events that I engaged myself with – moments when I realized how vulnerable I have become, when I moved closer to the resilience I possess, when I smirked how easily I could extend someone’s glance over me….I think, most of us do that and we love ourselves for all those moments of self indulgence. I ceased to be part of celebrations, ceased to join the exuberance of fellow human beings. Well, I hold nothing against that. I, in fact, admire people who have such high levels of energy to enjoy life. I prefer to walk out, sit and watch the Grass in movement. The Grass is at work, relentless and silent, thinking of a high-impact, low-decibel yard maintenance program, so that it could provide a soft and naturally fortified renewing green bed, which provides much desired and much-sought after rejuvenation to humans. Those sleek blades of Grass stay on ferocious, even when they are trampled by heartless feet, senseless fools or losing their green tinge for a paler hue. Despite many crushes, crunches, they dutifully push up their slender necks or urge their little ones to brave the horrid world of humans, as they are lain down on their deathbed.

So beneath our foolish feet nestled in the comfort of leather or non-leather footwear, the earth brings the “Sturdy Grass” to birth. And this’s what motivates me. When I am displaying acute “Withdrawal Symptoms from life, courtesy my work-mates”, I stare at the slender necks of Grass. At certain times, raindrops and mist “sparkle up Grass”, which is a delightful, “rejuvenating and life-affirming sight”, or, should I say “life-assertive spectacle”? And how can we forget that scintillating moment when the Grass grabs hold of the Sun to it, and opens its luscious hands wide enough to bring richer colors, perfume or fragrance to the milieu, foolish humans live about?

Grass works on a daily basis, perhaps, on a moment basis…while most humans do not even recognize its existence and walk over them crushing their slender necks, others time-starved run around it thinking “high-priority tasks”. However, it’s fashionable to say “ah, how much I miss stretching myself on a grassy bed? let me not even think of those earthen creatures like ants, grass-bound insects crawling up onto my feet, legs etc etc”. Grass works diligently and foolish humans receive compliments on how good one’s yard or garden looks. So who, when, where and why recognizes the “Grass efforts”? The breeze, the essential elements like the Sun, the Moon, etc who spend time carefully going back and forth across the waist lands of Grass and shower compliments, especially, at those hours, when foolish humans sleep like pigs.

Raising its head against many constraints is both a tedious and thankless task for the Grass. Both interestingly and encouragingly, Grass never detests its existence and grudges about its culture. It would survey the landscape and begin walking across the yard, with the breeze quietly in tow. It’s that amazing ability to draw immense pride through disciplining self while at work, without expecting any robes of accolades, energising comments, captivates me interminably. I still carry a few images tucked deeply under my eyelids, each image has two hearts celebrating their romance on a grassy bed, under the bright stars in the sky. I still hear people inviting others to walk on a lush soft grassy bed barefoot….it’s almost like enjoying a culture of “simple and earthy things in this world”!  ….I would love to participate in “The Culture of Grass”, and I love to be a blade of Grass that caresses a tired cheek, a tear-drenched cheek, a rough masculine cheek, a plump soft feminine cheek….!