It is Christmas today. I spend my whole day at the beach from dawn to dusk sitting at the bench alone. The sun is going to set in few hours. It’s light transforms the sea into a landscape of small sparkling diamonds. Soft cool breeze is full of some unknown scent which makes my soul mesmerizes. A flock of white migratory birds is chirping here and there. This scenic scene makes me feel as if I am living in a whimsical world.
I want to be bare-minded to absorb the picturesque sight. The whole ambiance is serene and soothing but there is a war going on inside me.
A war which is full of cry and clamor. Its cacophony makes my soul swirl and deafening my ears. It is a battle among my charioteer, my white horse and my black horse. My white horse is standing and sweating with shame because my black horse is violent with passion. My charioteer can not control it and is exhausted. Plato declares it “the mate of insolence and knavery” who is “hardly heeding whip or spur.”
I am breathless.