“Why is it raining so much? Why is the temperature falling? What is happening?” I repeatedly posed these questions as I walked through the forest, where visibility was severely limited by the rain. My body quivered as the temperature gently dropped amidst this beautiful downpour. I attempted to discern anything beyond the trees and rain, but nothing else was visible.
I pondered, “What should I do in this rain? Should I rest, or should I try to find a way out of this endless forest?” As these thoughts occupied my mind, an uncontrollable shout suddenly erupted from within me, “Is there anyone who will help me? Oh God!” Following this outburst, a profound sense of helplessness enveloped me. “Even in this beautiful rain, where the earthy scent kisses my soul and the celestial view comforts my heart, why do I not feel blessed? Why is there a feeling of fear? From whom am I afraid? Everything I perceive is merely a reflection of myself.” With a newfound peace in my heart, as I was moving my head skyward to observe the source of the rain. “Is it heaven? Rain occurs when the cosmos is in love with its own creation.” I was momentarily lost in thought when I gazed upon the infinite and boundless sky, which was filled with forests, much like a mother engrossed in love upon seeing her child’s innocent face. My eyes were moving rapidly, trying to grasp everything in that endlessness when I saw myself looking at me from the sky to the earth or maybe from the earth to the sky with respect to him or me from a different perspective, I don’t know? Everything went away for a moment and I could only see myself looking at me but as I saw that tiny dot that was me, that tiny me started to fade along with the me that I was and what was left is a sky with an infinite forest with rays of sun trying to enter even in this dense and chaotic scenery. Everything was becoming impossible to comprehend, my soul was so much drunk with the divinity of the cosmos that I can’t name, my soul at its limits started to tremble as a drunk man.
When at last I woke up from this dream, “Was it a dream or a gift? If it is not going to be painted, then it will be a dream; if it is going to be painted, then it will be a gift… Gift to humanity and a dream for the artist.” With this thought, in the early morning at 4 o’clock, I started to prepare for another journey between imagination and creation.
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