Does it happen that a picture, a word, a silence, a strain of music that wafts in from somewhere, suddenly gives you the feeling that: “This is it, you are on the road to nowhere?”
My moment of epiphany was this one.
It didn’t sink in when I took this picture a few weeks back. I was heady on holiday cheer. Today, it provoked a pause.
The padippura (the archway) opens to nowhere. Behind it is a rivulet, the one that irrigates paddy fields by a narrow strip of land that leads you to a distant hill. Whereupon, there is nothing! Zilch.
Guess, several times in life, you stand before such roads.
You walk the narrow path, brave the mountain climb, and then…. yes, there is nothing.
A futile walk, a fruitless climb, another hopeless journey.
Or..
Perhaps, there is something indeed: Up on the hills, there is nothing between you and the open sky.
The roads to nowhere could really take you somewhere – to your freedom.
There is an unforgettable moment in Thoovanathumpikal, where as the protagonists discover each other, a lunatic’s cry echoes from the desolate hills.
Silence might be the most powerful cry but nothing can be more searing than a rupturing cry that loses into a world of despondent silence.
ENDS
