Ruins

I've been thinking about the reasons behind why I've always been fascinated by ancient ruins, particularly temples. And then I realised that whatever I seek to find there, I do not experience it anywhere else in my life.

The calm, serene surroundings, with the occasional echoes of footsteps from visitors at another side of the compound, tend to quieten down my hyper-anxious self. Cricket sounds from the nearby fields become your music companion as you wander into the depths of carved stone slabs placed gingerly upon one another.

Sometimes you see a flicker of saffron from the corner of the eye, only to catch a glimpse of a monk turning the corner and disappearing into the maze of ruins. You chase after him, but all you see are the tails of his robe, as he meanders through the chambers.

If you sat there in a corner and looked up to the ruin that was built thousands of years ago, not only would one feel as tiny as an ant, but also unimportant. Life suddenly seems unimportant and if I could, I would have just sat there and not move. Nothing else matters because we're taking a step towards death every day.

If you climbed up to the ruin, you would be able to feel the wind on your face and the sun scorching your back, as you realise just how high up you are, looking down at humanity. And it's so quiet up there. So quiet you could almost hear people talking on the ground.

The serenity I get from immersing myself into a place that held so much significance and awe is something that cannot be attained from the quotidian life. The spiritual awakening is overpowering and I miss that - I miss seeing the intangible aspects of life and the serene, therapeutic relaxation gained from the collapse of thousand-year-old stone slabs - the ruins and the never-ending stone door frames are the constant reminder to reflect and reach within one's soul, just as each frame within the other parallels the chambers of the heart and soul.

When I have a chance, I would want to do all that again somewhere in this world...alone, contented, with a journal and a pen.