Overwhelming Senses

Me and death, separated at birth. This Chuck Palahniuk line is one of my favourites- typical of how creative (in an unorthodox way) the man can be.

What really makes our lives special? It could be the power of the senses- I like to travel very much, explore to different places, going back to the same place over and over again, observing something new every time; but the experience wouldn't have been the same without the visual treat. Without the power of sight, the green valleys of the Sahyadris would have been indistinguishable from the snow capped Himalayas. The ferocity of the Eastern coast no different from the deceptive calmness of the Konkan coast.

Music: though I'm not big into it, but I appreciate the audio experience as well. Life surely would have been much less worth it if unexposed to Rahman, Beatles, Dylan and the like.

Touch, well, makes it all feel real. The audio visual treat can perhaps be simulated in theater screens and the telly. The fresh drops of rain on your palm when it starts raining, the reassurance that one gets when checking out that the mobile, keys and the wallet are safe, the irrepressible confidence that exudes from a weapon (especially guns- I guess the feel that you can prey on someone from a distance brings forth the courage, ironic in a way) and the incredible warmth of love.

But it gets a bit overwhelming at times. At moments, when faced with indescribable sights, I feel the senses are sometimes an embarrassment of riches. Walking alone in the streets, I get lost in my thoughts, the sounds and the sights. Time just goes by, me losing track of all time and reason. This is how I meditate. You lock me in a room with overpowering silence for long, I'll scream out so hard, I'd probably rupture my throat. Leave me in a crowded street with the rhythms of life beating all around, I let my thoughts fly- a pity they don't go too far.

But lately I drown out the noises- I envelop my ears with a headphone. The auditory experience becomes more customised. And that has helped me see. Things I'd miss otherwise, I take keen attention to. A man sleeping with a weird pose on the street, a patch of grass growing out of nowhere, a fascinating zig zag pattern of mud or even oddly coloured curtains on windows.

Suppressing noise is something yearned for in the face of a beautiful sight. Though noise has it's own charms, I'll admit. A laughter out of nowhere in a seemingly lonely beach is a sensual experience in itself. It jolts you out of any reverie you were in.

Perhaps for someone with sight, suppressing noise comes forth. But I can imagine music without sight would probably a divine experience. I am not so naive to think that if I just blindfold myself and turn on a mix of flutes and violins, I will enjoy it as I never have. But if I do it more than a couple of times, give it a little time, I am sure the experience will be unforgettable.

Speaking to a loved one, yearning for the touch, but not getting any, can be an experience in itself. Definitely not a welcome one, but sometimes they say this makes the desire stronger.