We the Living by Ayn Rand:- "Joy of being alone"

A long, long time ago

I dreamt of wilderness

Dreamt of giving up of being

Around the crowd, and

Running all the way round.

Of being all alone,

In the middle of long dense trees

Whose branches lush and green

 

The small little forest – my home

Where Fruits healed my hunger

Where Cool soil guided my sleep

In the sweet melodies of canary

 

I dreamt of joy

In being alone

And find myself jumping in the rain

I dreamt of fear

In being alone

And find myself curled up

Like fetus in the womb of nature

 

The alarm bell on my phone

Asking me to wake up from my dream

I wash up my face

And move to a window side

To supply the fresh air to my inner self

A light thunder

And I look up at the sky

At the clouds turning gray and black

Of the clouds scattering and showering sun’s light

Of the clouds thundering and pouring down

The rain dampens the dry soil

& I breathe in the fragrance of petrichor

And come back to my room

At my desk

With my book-

To enjoy my time alone!!

And- re-read the line-

“The thing about life is the joy of being alone”

we-the-living-ayn-rand-joy-of-being-alone

Chapter-3 – We the Living by Ayn Rand- describes about the childhood of the main protagonist Kira Argounova.

There is a wonderful paragraph describing the beauty of Nature and Kira enjoying being there.

The above piece is an expression of the joy of reading this paragraph.

The extract-

 For many summers, while her parents were visiting Nice, Biarritz and Vienna, Kira was left alone to spend her days in the wild freedom of the rocky hill, as its sole, undisputed sovereign in a torn blue skirt and a white shirt whose sleeves were always missing. The sharp sand cut her bare feet. She swung from rock to rock, grasping a tree branch, throwing her body into space, the blue skirt flaring like a parachute.

She made a raft of tree branches and, clutching a long pole, sailed down the river. There were many dangerous rocks and whirlpools on the way. The thrill of the struggle rose from her bare feet, that felt the stream pulsating under the frail raft, through her body tensed to meet the wind, the blue skirt beating against her legs like a sail. Branches bending over the river brushed her forehead. She swept past, leaving threads of hair entwined in the leaves, and the trees leaving wild red berries caught in her hair.

The first thing that Kira learned about life and the first thing that her elders learned, dismayed, about Kira, was the joy of being alone.

 Grab your copy of the book here!!

Note- this post contains an affiliate link.