The Brevity and Grandiose of Life

Disclaimer: This post has a very whimsical flow to it. I steer in and out of topics as I wish.

Picture this—a dream-like, cosy setting where an entire beach with its undulating sand dunes lay before you, as if nature has granted you a temporarily private audience to this haven. And the best part? No admission fees, no exorbitant prices for this beautiful sea-facing view. Here, it's a treasure bestowed freely by nature, much like a gem hidden in plain sight for those who know where to look. It's YOUR private beach, if only for that fleeting moment, until the sands shift shape and the tides pull in a new admirer.

Silhouette photo of me enjoying a sunset at Chandrabhaga beach

Let's get to the main topic of this blog― the brevity and grandiose of life.

Beaches possess an ability to nudge you into the realisation that nature is much bigger than you can ever imagine for it to be― if you know where to look.

It takes so much to make you feel big in this world. It only takes an ocean to make you feel tiny.

-Mitch Albom "The Stranger in the Lifeboat"

While standing on the shorelines, you are, but a small fragment in the vastness of the world― and in the obvious intricacies of life. And amidst the vastness of the shorelines, you are like a mere grain of sand on the beach― not inherently special yet undeniably unique.

[Isn't it crazy how your environment affects the way you think about things? A person living in colder regions, or the mountains, experiencing snowfalls would have given the example of snowflakes, and here I am giving the example of sand grains.]

It is when the waves crash against you like a wall, the stark reality of your smallness becomes palpable. The sheer magnitude of the waves, although an enjoyable experience, also imparts a humbling lesson. It is something that cannot be captured on a camera or shown on TV screens.

It's a humbling experience that silently shouts, "You are a part of something much larger".

The Brevity of Life:

Life is a temporary loan.

Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

Life is like the seashore. It becomes evident that each moment is inherently different and the unpredictability of what comes next is just the intrinsic nature of existence. It’s a lesson drawn from the very nature of nature. The waves, like time, draw intricate patterns on the sand, only to erase them and paint a new one with the next arrival. It becomes a metaphor for the unpredictability of life. It exemplifies how life has the capacity to reshape itself, all one has to do is trust― trust in the inherent nature of life to move forward, unfold, evolve, transform, and in its own way, find equilibrium and peace.

Now, let's take help from Hinduism and Buddhism for a beautiful example. You might have heard about Mandala art, and might have even come across people drawing beautiful Mandala-patterns too. Mandala art was always drawn with coloured sand or other colouring materials of similar texture (in Odisha we call it "muruja jhoti"). The tradition that I am going to give an example about has been preserved very well in Buddhism:

Mandala making for monks, is a meditative practice. These monks spend hours, sometimes days, painstakingly constructing mandalas with utmost precision. Each line is drawn with care, each pattern is crafted symmetrically, and every detail is attended to with unwavering focus. The process itself is a form of meditation, a journey of mindfulness and patience. Once completed, the mandala is not preserved or displayed as a permanent piece of art. Instead, it is dismantled, often immediately. The sand is swept away, and the intricate patterns that took so long to create are destroyed in an instant. This act symbolises the transient nature of life, reminding us that nothing is permanent.

I find it very essential to point out that trusting the process doesn’t mean that life will always take a turn for the good; one might strike adversity and the turns might not always be in our favour. Yet, even in the face of hardship, trusting the process becomes even more important. The understanding that the hardships are just as transient as the happiness of life, just like the drawings of the waves on the sand, can offer a different level of clarity and calm to the mind.

Life, obviously, will be marked by its highs and lows. Do not ever mistake the trusting of the process to be denying the existence of challenges. There will be challenges but when you trust the process, you start to acknowledge the impermanence of it. With the arrival of the next wave, the sands of circumstances change, and even the happiest and trying moments get washed away in the waves of time.

Trust is, but a companion― an anchor that allows us to go through certainties and uncertainties, all the while embracing the rhythm of change with an unwavering faith that one day everything has to come to an end― the good and the bad.

They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.

Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

One of my favourite songs exemplifies the brevity of life in the perfect manner. Embedding the video here:

Meaning of the lyrics:

Enjoy every moment to your fullest, since life is, but a waft of breath. It takes only a split second to make or break a life, for life is like this house of dew on a wall of flowers (fresh yet delicate, and momentary). You should embrace the strangest moments in life with a smile, since life is a road which twists and turns at every step. Do whatever you want to whenever you can, you never know whether life is of a few years or a few moments.

The Grandiose of Life:

The ancient covenant is in pieces; man at last knows that he is alone in the unfeeling immensity of the universe, out of which he only emerged by chance.

Jacques Monod (Nobel Prize winner in Physiology or Medicine)

This quote by Jacques Mond makes you think, for the language used in it is simple and yet so very eloquent, and hence it hits right in the nerves. It is, but a poignant reminder of how big the universe can be, and how we are on just a floating piece of rock in this vast universe. If we take the life of the Earth into consideration, the length of our lives don't even matter.

As for me, I am a passionate starer (if there is something of that sort). I was just talking to a friend about this habit of mine a few days back. Just like the brevity of life, this too recognises our mortality, our impermanence and sort of forces us to muster courage to embrace the fleeting moments of life.

Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.

Arthur C. Clarke

The grandeur of the universe extends far beyond the scientifically proven (or expected) vastness of space. It reveals itself in the subtly, in moments that we encounter in our everyday lives, only if we are ready to see it. Recently, as I was busy translating the 25th chapter of Kabisurjya's book, which depicts the arrival of spring and the gentle caress of a soft breeze, the universe around me seemed to align itself with my work, i.e., Kabisurjya's creative vision of the spring came to life at an unexpected time- I am talking about late April in Odisha-- it is at a time when we are experienceing record-breaking temperatures here in Bhubaneswar due to the heat waves.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, leaking a final glow across the sky, a gentle breeze began to stir, carrying with it the sweet scent of malli flowers (graciously planted and maintained by my mother) and the promise of renewal, of what I do not know. In that moment, I felt a deep connection to the natural world around me, as if the universe itself was reaching out to affirm the beauty and wonder of existence.

It was a reminder that the grandeur of the universe is not confined to distant galaxies and cosmic phenomena, but is woven into the very fabric of our everyday lives. It is present in the dance of sunlight filtering through the leaves (oh, how dearly am I reminded of Young's double slit experiment when I notice the beautiful shadows of the leaves playing around with the sunlight), the rhythm of waves lapping against the shore, and the melody of birdsong that fills the air.

I am too small. Too insignificant. I am a man in a raft, if I am to survive, the currents hold my fate.

-Mitch Albom, The Stranger in the Lifeboat

A Pre-Conclusion-Conclusion?

There's something intriguing I've noticed while driving. It's always the people who have to drive short distances that seem to be in the biggest hurry, speeding through the streets as if every second counts. On the other hand, those who take longer routes tend to maintain a constant, steady speed that never quite feels like rushing. This phenomenon isn't just about driving; it mirrors our broader approach to life. In our daily routines, we often find ourselves rushing through small tasks, convinced that speed equates to efficiency. Yet, in the grander scheme of our life's journey, it's the steady, consistent efforts that carry us further, allowing us to achieve our goals without the burnout that comes from constant haste. Whether on the road or in life, it's worth considering the long-term impact of our actions. Rushing through the small things might feel like you are saving very precious few minutes (but you actually aren't) in the short term, but maintaining a balanced, consistent pace is what ultimately leads to sustained progress and fulfillment. Now, to understand how speed works, do visit this post to understand things in a much better manner:

CLICK HERE to read my Blog about Speed

Conclusion:

In this life, stay away from all kinds of extremities, for they will destroy your inner balance.

Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

Concluding this piece, we understand that one should not get overwhelmed with either- the brevity or the grandiose. Life should be lived in balance, in moderation. The only way to enjoy is to live in the moment- enjoy things when they occur, in which ever capacity. In doing this, art becomes important; beauty becomes important; the ability to see beauty and art then becomes paramount.

Art gives meaning to life. The more you experience music, see dance performances, read literature, or gaze art, the richer you are in life. To find subtle melodies on the beach, or witness delicate dances of the waves, or uncover hidden colours in your everyday life is such a blessing. Art makes you aware and lets you enjoy life a little bit more than others who don't understand it.

Everybody sees a sunrise, only a few ever have the proficiency to experience it;

Everybody sees a sunrise, only a few see the stars getting erased from the horizon;

Everybody sees a sunrise, only a few see the light leaking from the invisible sun;

Everybody sees a sunrise, only a few see the unconquered night sky on the other side.

Literature not only illuminates another's experience, provided, I believed, the richest material for moral reflection.

Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

As this write up comes to a close, I am reminded of a (very recent) time when I was enjoying a sunset on our house rooftop (something that I find myself doing regularly now-a-days). I saw three birds floricking around. Since now we have the ability to capture moments and freeze them through our phones, we generally don't see why/how not to capture a moment of beauty as I find a sort of impatience in me which tells me: "capture this moment before it ends, for you might not get to see this beautiful moment again".

Carried away by this voice, I pick up my phone and try to capture the moment as real-ly as I am able to while forgetting the very fact that I cannot capture any moment forever. Yes, I have captured the video and audio in that moment:

will I ever be able to capture my thoughts at that particular moment? will I ever be able to capture that "aha, waah" I uttered the very moment I heard the chirping of those birds? will I ever be able to capture the wind that I felt during the moment?

The answer is simple. Yet, I don't seem to eb able to accept it: "No amount of technology can ever fully encapsulate the essence of a moment—the thoughts, feelings, and sensations that arise in that instant."

There's that impatient hope inside me which keeps nudging me to capture these moments, and I do give into that voice.

So, as I continue to navigate this journey called life, I am learning to let go of my need to capture every moment and instead, to simply be present. To savor the sights, sounds, and sensations of the here and now, knowing that some experiences are meant to be felt, not captured. And in doing so, I am discovering a newfound sense of peace and contentment—a reminder that the true beauty of life lies not in the moments we capture, but in the moments we allow ourselves to fully experience.

Good books, music, environment, paintings (all art) are such a blessing!

Blessed are the ones who read;

Blessed are the ones who listen;

Blessed are the ones who see.

There is a certain beauty in embracing the impermanence of life, in allowing ourselves to fully immerse in the present moment without the need for documentation or validation. It's about learning to appreciate the simple joys and wonders of life as they unfold, without the pressure to capture or share them with the world.

Thank you, music, for enabling me to have the patience to let art unfold itself in its own pace in front of me; for giving me the ability to understand.