(Saroja)
I was reading Aranyak in the house upstairs this afternoon. It is calm and well-lit. My old house – this one -- is dimly lit and claustrophobic in comparison, being on the ground floor and hemmed in by buildings on all sides My computer was away, there was no one else and suddenly, the afternoon was too empty. The sense of emptiness, aloneness was so present there, that as a result I began to wonder how all of us keep filling the moments of our lives with thoughts, purposes, interaction, work. But being alone in a room with open windows for a while can question all these things we busy ourselves with, day in and day out. What then would life be like in the midst of a dense forest miles and miles away from home, with no kindred soul to interact with?
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