If words were meant to paint the images that bring to life the
emotions the word carries, then I think they miserably fail when it comes to
portraying certain emotions.
For instance, how does one ever describe the feeling that engulfs
one on seeing a new born baby; more so when the new born is your own blood, come
out of your dearest companion who carried and nurtured the unborn life for
three quarters of an year, meandering along like a river flowing through
dangerous terrain, changing course every now and then, every turn resulting in
unexplained changes and every change leading to mysterious joy?
Is there a way you can put forth the elation that descends upon you
as you feel the tender new born skin wrapped in cotton cuddled in your arms? As
you see the eyes closed in serene peace and lips arched in angelic bliss give
shape to the face that you painted on invisible canvas for months together?
It is indeed a blessing from the creator of life that every new
life that takes shape gives rise to such immense joy and becomes a source of
pristine ebullience. As you take the new born life closer to your chest and
feel the thumping sound, resonating with your own beat, you realize how this
beating makes your own irrelevant. How from now, your every dream has a new
meaning, how your every breath carries a new purpose, how your every second is much more precious.
This very simple biological process, taking place every day in
hundreds of thousands is enough to make you realize how magnificent the whole
arrangement of life has been. The new born sight, the scent and sense, all
makes everything else in the world seem silly and immaterial.
