Soon the houses in the locality are engulfed in darkness; their erected silhouettes, in sodium street lamps, will haunt until the sun enlightens the basic modern architectures at dawn.
Coming from a rented floor, a whistle of a pressure cooker releases some potent smell of Indian spices and herbs that might exasperate Jains living in the adjacent house. The rented floor is some bachelors’ pad. I reckon that they’ve decided to prepare rice and mutton again. Near a dump, stray dogs are warming up their vocal cords to hit the eighth note. Sometimes, their symphony makes outsiders roaming at night visit the nearest clinic. These wimpy dogs show up out of nowhere and start chasing two-wheelers, cars, or any moving things that agitate their beautiful mind. At a corner of the locality, there’s an under-construction house which is a go-to spot for some drunkards. It’s a Friday night; the drunkards have been assembled in the house again. I can hear them bickering over which political party is good for the country in their hammered point of view, BJP or AAP. Not so far, a girl strolling on the roof of her house is moaning about her new job and boss on a phone call.
Amongst these disorderly states, I stand on my balcony and admire darkness. Aha! It’s a blessing for me, for it brings the otherwise boisterous locality to silence, and let me sail nights. Since I don’t have much to do, I lazily gaze at my mobile phone and engage myself in some mental calculations. Fifteen minutes later, the girl, the drunkards, and the wimpy dogs will get synchronized with darkness and find their peace of mind.
Suddenly, a cool, gentle breeze brushes my worn-out face that has endured the arid hotness of the day. The temperature of the neighbourhood is dropping gradually. Now, the night feels like hot Jalebi drenched in Rabri flavoured with euphoria on my tongue. And as usual, imagination overpowers my meek consciousness; thus, I make infinite layers of chaotic events inside my head. Somewhere, a young girl might be crying herself to sleep, clinging to a pillow. A teenage boy might be sneaking to the roof to smoke a cigarette just like a scene in a Bollywood movie that he saw earlier.
Throughout nights until sleep makes me weak, I juggle between thoughts and objects. I’m still on the balcony, nonchalantly observing how humans, out of greed, throw off moths by erecting yellow light poles everywhere. Thinking better of it, I realise how some photons help a woman feel safe at night.
As of now, silence has taped every source of vibrations to a chair except crickets. Their chirping to attract females feels like an eargasm. The pleasant night and soothing nature’s sound make me snuggle with the night as though the night be sleeping in my room beside me.
Coming from a rented floor, a whistle of a pressure cooker releases some potent smell of Indian spices and herbs that might exasperate Jains living in the adjacent house. The rented floor is some bachelors’ pad. I reckon that they’ve decided to prepare rice and mutton again. Near a dump, stray dogs are warming up their vocal cords to hit the eighth note. Sometimes, their symphony makes outsiders roaming at night visit the nearest clinic. These wimpy dogs show up out of nowhere and start chasing two-wheelers, cars, or any moving things that agitate their beautiful mind. At a corner of the locality, there’s an under-construction house which is a go-to spot for some drunkards. It’s a Friday night; the drunkards have been assembled in the house again. I can hear them bickering over which political party is good for the country in their hammered point of view, BJP or AAP. Not so far, a girl strolling on the roof of her house is moaning about her new job and boss on a phone call.
Amongst these disorderly states, I stand on my balcony and admire darkness. Aha! It’s a blessing for me, for it brings the otherwise boisterous locality to silence, and let me sail nights. Since I don’t have much to do, I lazily gaze at my mobile phone and engage myself in some mental calculations. Fifteen minutes later, the girl, the drunkards, and the wimpy dogs will get synchronized with darkness and find their peace of mind.
Suddenly, a cool, gentle breeze brushes my worn-out face that has endured the arid hotness of the day. The temperature of the neighbourhood is dropping gradually. Now, the night feels like hot Jalebi drenched in Rabri flavoured with euphoria on my tongue. And as usual, imagination overpowers my meek consciousness; thus, I make infinite layers of chaotic events inside my head. Somewhere, a young girl might be crying herself to sleep, clinging to a pillow. A teenage boy might be sneaking to the roof to smoke a cigarette just like a scene in a Bollywood movie that he saw earlier.
Throughout nights until sleep makes me weak, I juggle between thoughts and objects. I’m still on the balcony, nonchalantly observing how humans, out of greed, throw off moths by erecting yellow light poles everywhere. Thinking better of it, I realise how some photons help a woman feel safe at night.
As of now, silence has taped every source of vibrations to a chair except crickets. Their chirping to attract females feels like an eargasm. The pleasant night and soothing nature’s sound make me snuggle with the night as though the night be sleeping in my room beside me.
Comments
Post a Comment