The cigarette between his fingers was glowering slowly; the ember on the tip pulsating between a faint and a fierce complexion of orange; the smoke emanating from it, taking random shapes. He was standing at the parapet of his balcony watching the city skyline, the synonymous coffee mug in his hand and the ipod plugged in his ears. It had been that kind of a week-hectic, turbulent, unpredictable- with the highs interspersed with the lows; the usual randomness that he associated with everything these days, seemed to be orchestrating every turn of events. The weather, however, had been slightly more favorable; the ruthlessness of the sun, at times was mellowed by the nebulous clouds, bringing intermittent, heavy showers. And when the rains started to get to you, clear skies would suddenly take over and provide relief from the ennui of gray. A few puddles had formed, none the less, on the road stretching out in front of him, reminiscent of the desecration that the overbearing skies brought out every year on the earth at this time of the year.
The crescent moon was out adorning the night sky; its pale fluorescence providing a luminescence that was inviting and comforting. There were a few clouds moving around; their movement resembling the ambling of tired joggers in a park doing their last laps. The songs on his ipod kept shuffling from one to the other; he wasn't paying attention to them. The only purpose that they were serving was of blocking out the hush of the sounds of airplane engines and distant car horns. He recalled this conversation he had had when someone told him that the purity of music is at its best when there are no words attached to it; for when there are words, we attach meanings to it, and embellish the reason for its existence.
There weren't many stars out tonight; and even if they were, the smog and smoke enveloping the stratosphere, obscured them. He took in a puff; he was always fascinated by the stars; their distance from him was gargantuan, yet these twinkling bodies of burning gases, gave a sense of transience to the meaning of life, the universe and everything in between. The selfless act of burning themselves out in the hope that their lights will reach humanity; was something that was beautiful and disturbing at the same time. A wry smile escaped him as he peered hard and spotted a lone star right above his head, as it twinkled as if to catch his attention and remind him that he is not alone in his reverie.
Suddenly there was a power cut. And everything went dark; the streetlights went out, the red lights flashing atop the high rises were gone. As if to gel well with the surroundings, the moon decided to hide behind a passing cloud. The only light left now was the one from the burning cigarette, and of course there was the starlight. It all looked gloomy, and even depressing. Out of nowhere in that moment of darkness appeared a sprinkle of fireflies; dancing away merrily in a zig-zag motion; the blackout being a cue to showcase their talent. They were right in front of him, these lightning bugs, moving so carefree, with their tail-lights forming a synchronized pattern. He could sense their excitement as their blinking increased in rapidity, the purpose of their lives being fulfilled in that rhythmic acrobatics.
"If only I can catch them, and store them in a jar... just in case of a rainy day", thought he as an overwhelming feeling of peace and serenity pervaded his being.
The last sip of coffee was sent down his throat...the cigarette was stubbed out, its ember disposed of... the lone star overhead, also disappeared in the night. For now, the fireflies would have to do....
The crescent moon was out adorning the night sky; its pale fluorescence providing a luminescence that was inviting and comforting. There were a few clouds moving around; their movement resembling the ambling of tired joggers in a park doing their last laps. The songs on his ipod kept shuffling from one to the other; he wasn't paying attention to them. The only purpose that they were serving was of blocking out the hush of the sounds of airplane engines and distant car horns. He recalled this conversation he had had when someone told him that the purity of music is at its best when there are no words attached to it; for when there are words, we attach meanings to it, and embellish the reason for its existence.
There weren't many stars out tonight; and even if they were, the smog and smoke enveloping the stratosphere, obscured them. He took in a puff; he was always fascinated by the stars; their distance from him was gargantuan, yet these twinkling bodies of burning gases, gave a sense of transience to the meaning of life, the universe and everything in between. The selfless act of burning themselves out in the hope that their lights will reach humanity; was something that was beautiful and disturbing at the same time. A wry smile escaped him as he peered hard and spotted a lone star right above his head, as it twinkled as if to catch his attention and remind him that he is not alone in his reverie.
Suddenly there was a power cut. And everything went dark; the streetlights went out, the red lights flashing atop the high rises were gone. As if to gel well with the surroundings, the moon decided to hide behind a passing cloud. The only light left now was the one from the burning cigarette, and of course there was the starlight. It all looked gloomy, and even depressing. Out of nowhere in that moment of darkness appeared a sprinkle of fireflies; dancing away merrily in a zig-zag motion; the blackout being a cue to showcase their talent. They were right in front of him, these lightning bugs, moving so carefree, with their tail-lights forming a synchronized pattern. He could sense their excitement as their blinking increased in rapidity, the purpose of their lives being fulfilled in that rhythmic acrobatics.
"If only I can catch them, and store them in a jar... just in case of a rainy day", thought he as an overwhelming feeling of peace and serenity pervaded his being.
The last sip of coffee was sent down his throat...the cigarette was stubbed out, its ember disposed of... the lone star overhead, also disappeared in the night. For now, the fireflies would have to do....
