I draw the curtain revealing the dark night outside. The silhouettes of the neighborhood show bathed in the almost full-moon light. I look up and see some stars twinkling, as they should. In that instant, I am transported back to the patio I used to lounge on, watching the night sky and the world go by, decades ago, as a high school student.
The sight of the night sky accompanied by the sounds of people walking on the road, presumably returning to their family after their work day, of vehicles plying – which weren’t too many at that time. Flower vendors going door-to-door making their evening sale. The scent of the agarbathis that wafted through the evening breeze, from my own house and that of the neighbors. The sounds of the evening news playing in my grandparents’ house next door. The sounds of the loud conversation exchanged between my grandmother and my aunt next door. These used to be regular sights and sounds of those times, every day.
I listened to such sounds while gazing at the sky. I wondered how my future would turn out to be. I wondered if I would turn up half-as-good as my sister, who always excelled at everything she set out to do. I wondered why I was not half-as-interested in academics. All I wanted to do was to be a person that helped disadvantaged people in the society and help at least a handful of such people build better lives for themselves. I also wanted to be a doctor.
This night time star gazing was a ritual. It allowed me space to imagine possibilities. It filled me with peace knowing that its such a big world out there, beyond the skies and stars. I thought of what a tiny speck I was and how much people took themselves seriously.
Forward 20 years or so since, living in the land of possibilities now all I want is to go back to those sights and sounds of the place that is bustling with people. People. Sights. Sounds. I miss them all and the thread that runs so deep within that touches these senses.
Stop. Breathe. Relax 