One woke up early today. It was a strange time. Everything was so much silent and still. Air was not in the movement but it was fresh and pure. The sun was below the horizon and darkness was everywhere. This darkness was not ordinary but a mix of black, gray and white colors. Trees were still, colorless, emerging fog from their leaves. The color of fog was immensely white and watching it in that strange darkness was a benediction. One has seen this earth many times but without colors it was totally different.
Sun was coming up slowly. It was not yet visible but its aura covered the whole sky. Sky was filled with light red and blue color; tiny clouds turned pinkish white. Everything was absorbing color one by one. It was a silent movement. Everything was so much still, without any change, but turning into something new. Sun was filling colors in every blade of grass or the grass was emerging its own color; who knows? Everything was filling with light and color as the sun was going up in the sky. Fog was disappearing.
This morning, colors were so much intense and full of shine; as seemed an artist had filled colors to his new painting and not dried yet. One was aware that how significant and live this morning has become which was colorless a few minutes before. It was full of strength. Not strength by capacity or power but a deep innocence and humility.
Soon from nowhere many birds came. They were more than a dozen; singing, cooing, touching each other in celebration and love. Suddenly, a harsh roar of loud-speaker took place from a temple and breaks this extraordinary beauty of silence without any pity.