Gautam remained silent, hesitant as to whether the words he would utter might reveal his uncertainty about the place he’d arrived. “How many days have you been practicing?” said the man opposite him.
“For two years… Only intermittent practices. Sometimes, there was even a break of three months. But in spite of my regular stints at the practice, I wasn’t able to enjoy its benefits.”
“What do you expect as benefits?”
“I certainly didn’t get into meditation expecting supernatural powers. I’ve got no desire in attaining them. My mind refuses to be under control. It wanders restlessly all the time. Holding its tail, I too am wandering behind it. I hoped I could focus my mind through meditation.”
Continue reading in Spillwords Press: Swaying, Flowing - A short story
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