This lockdown resuscitated a long lost memory of mine . ” Madam boat ! ” ” Madam boat ! ” was all I heard while walking down the ghats of Benaras. But this time , it was different. I didn’t hear the pestering sound of the boatmen . It was serene, unruffled and very quiet. This stillness bothered me more than the jabber of the boatmen. I could grasp that something was erroneous. I later learned that there was a boat strike ( lockdown ) . Dawn to dusk , not a single boat was glimpsed . The water was stagnant just like my mind was in that pin drop silence. Everyday the morning Pacific was tantalizing my emotions and mesmerizing my senses . Whenever I visited Benaras, I was never able to get tranquillity. But this time the strike came like a blessing and I was at ease .
I often fantasized about sitting in dinghy and rowing away to nowhere . The silence of not having the boatmen reminded me of the soothing atmosphere which I would get while sitting in the boat .
In this life, we control our own boats through time, seemingly alone. But, really, it’s only the fittings and fixtures of life that change. We are never alone or apart. We cannot lose ourselves when life, like molecules of water, takes different forms without losing its cohesion.