I was walking back home after dropping my son at his school. Like always it was a beautiful morning. The Sun was hiding behind the clouds. It was not warm; it was not cold. A gentle breeze was blowing the dry yellow leaves away from their trees. Strolling beneath a Ginkgo tree, few leaves flew past over my head, touching my hairs softly. It felt like I have just been blessed. I looked around and saw three pairs of pigeons chirping on the electric wire. I don’t know why but I remembered an old Hindi song and started singing. The beautiful morning became more beautiful.
Suddenly, I felt something wet trickling down my cheek. It wasn’t a tear; it was something more blissful, something purer than a tear. I touched and took the drop on my fingertip and looked at ‘it’. ‘It’ made me feel the intense joy within. My whole entity was filled with graciousness towards the creator. He had allowed me to experience the beauty of his creations. Touching that little drop, I was able to physically feel his presence. ‘It’ was the blessed.
Slowly as the drop dried up on my finger, it made me realize the nature of our belief in the creator. I understood that even though it’s commonly practiced but generally it’s very fragile.