Gotta Make My Own Bliss

The beautiful bungalow we have rented on the outskirts of Bangalore has breathtaking views and a sloped terracotta tile roof all over.   Inside, a ceiling with wooden beams shows off these earthen tiles, offsetting the cream colored walls with red oxide cement floors.   These tiles are a true example of beauty and practicality being unable to function hand in hand.   For the last couple of weeks, each evening has been spent positioning garbage cans and buckets all over the house to capture the rain water dripping from the ceiling.

This morning I was walking through the house with my neck craned up, trying to spot the leaky tiles.   I was irritated at the ‘sealant guy’ who has supposedly sealed these tiles a number of times.   It was beginning to dawn upon me that this was another one of those things that I would have to learn to live with- dodging the buckets and garbage cans when I get up to check on my daughter at night.   The incessant rains of the last few days had not helped perk-up me up and this certainly was not my idea of rain-water harvesting.



I walked about with a sore neck and a doubly sore mood, when unexpectedly I was enveloped in warm light.   I relaxed the corners of my squinted eyes and continued standing under the large sky-light in the foyer.   Psychedelic yellow, orange and red swirls filled up my blind vision.   They were beautiful in their own blurry manner; continually changing in color, pattern and intensity.   I was so overcome by the visuals and the warmth that I failed to think about the leaking tiles.   I knew they still existed in the background but taking pleasure in the peace that surrounded me seemed much more vital.

Those couple of minutes of composure were enough to ebb away my frustration at the rains, the leaks, the tiles, the buckets and the incessant dripping sounds through the night.   The warmth of the sun rays tenderly reminded me that inherently my bliss is there to find, it depends on what I choose to focus on.