Dream. Silence. Pictures.

Some of the totally useless but satisfying things I spend time on is going through my pictures and producing stuff like the above. If I were to run through my growing collection of photos (they are easily taken on a digital camera these days), I wonder if there could be a recurring motif detected. Perhaps a relentless quest for perfection? Or the yearning for space and true freedom? Or just being anal about everything. Perhaps, or perhaps more.

I wish I could call myself a true Dreamer, maybe just to excuse my numerous failings and impractical habits. JPW was nice, and being witty as usual, when he once said - in response to my dreamer remark - that I was just an idealistic realist (or was it realistic idealist?). A dreamer could be an idealistic realist, couldn't he? But I much prefer the dreamer label. Even when dreaming and thinking such unproductive thoughts, I also insist on its sounding nice. Such is my mortal failing.

But, dreaming about how life often takes curious, unexpected turns, contemplating about the things going on around us, their hidden messages and subtle significance - the whimsicality of life always intrigues me. As a non-believer of any religion, I find that I have that bit of freedom to question and think possibilities that the faithful might not have because of their beliefs, just as they have the faith and strength to journey on through life which others may find lacking or faltering at times.

I've also come to realise that age is often accompanied by the longing for silence. On the train listening to BBC some time back, I heard this line: 'There's nothing I crave so much as silence these days. There's so much noise these days.' It struck a chord in me. Weighted down by accumulating memories and growing responsibilities, the real respite one gets these days is when one is left untouched by these matters and thoughts. Having silence and personal space is key to attaining that 'untouched' state, however transient it might be. This may perhaps explain why mediation works for some, or why some people take a break and go on a sabbatical.

But craving silence does not mean shunning social company. It just means needing more quiet space (alone or with your friends and loved ones), and literally having less noise, less clutter in our tiny, nearly overcrowded lives. Technology may have weaved greater convenience into our lives, but it has also created more noise, both literally and metaphorically. In this urban city of ours, especially as a working, lower middle-class - whatever it means - citizen, the need for silence is amplified by the ceaseless claustrophobia one is constantly afflicted with. Growing older thus, I find contentment in spending quiet moments alone or with friends, away from the cacophony of our urban jungle.