The other night there was a power outage for almost an hour. Within 20 minutes, perspiration had formed a thin film over me. That is when I realised I had to look for light.
For me candles provide more than light. They are a testimony to passing Life. The wax slowly melting, the flame flickering, just that little warmth in a little space. Isn’t that all I wanted of life? Yet, I find terms like “quality time” thrown my way. All time has quality, that is not the point. But when you only have those few hours, you cannot talk in terms of timelessness.
I see around me people making commitments to causes, to ideas, to people. And they get caught in several of the sub-plots, their duties. This is not quality time, this is jugglery. If you want something badly, feel strongly, you need to shed your old clothes, sometimes even your skin. Only then can you make others believe that you have truly bared yourself.
There are a lot of things that can grow only on an island. And as night descends, a torch may help you aim the light wherever you want, but it is a candle that will cast its shadow and stay with you, making you keep track of the time you are losing and waiting for you to regain it.
Very few people use candles to light their lives. This is why they do not fear the dark, complacent in the belief that they have a battery-operated torch with them always. But those who are not afraid of the dark will also never experience how eyes lit by yellow flames are as potent as the sun’s rays.
In their unspoken language they give what they have never promised.