My obsession with nights and the urge to stay awake till the wee hours of mornings began at a very tender age. Be it studying for the next day’s test or to derive pleasure from reading comics, I liked to do them in the solitude of night. The fact that nights are so serene and beautiful, with a sky full of stars enticed me into doing a lot of things, albeit making me an anti-social human.
I don’t know what kept me hooked on to the night. Maybe it was the joy of creating something at 12 A.M. Maybe it was the first poem that I have written at 2 A.M. Or maybe it was the flow of thoughts that walk with a panache into my head after 11 A.M. Nights have always been perfect.
Summers at my grandparents’ place were quite lively when I was a child. My cousins and I would exchange stories on paranormal activities, and most of the times we made them up. I still remember those nights when we would sit up on the terrace, often jumping on the water tank, and just talk. Those were the nights when even the fireflies participated in our conversations-brightening the dark night time and again. I still cannot fathom why even the most mundane things seemed interesting during those nights, because the entire magic of our conversations would vanish into thin air in the mornings. Now that I think of it, most of my cousins are highly reluctant to stay up late now. Quite funnily, even I find it atrocious to sacrifice my nights over them. But who stays awake in the nights? Apart from musicians trying to compose their best tunes, writers trying to put words on paper, lovers mending their broken hearts, watchmen witnessing stories of their lifetime (or not), burglars, and animals.
I know, that's a lot of people.
Anyway.
Some nights could be quite eventful. Even when they are absolutely simple. It is said that beauty lies in little and the simplest of things.
Tonight, as I stood in the balcony talking to a friend, it started raining. Instead of running into my room, I stood there, letting my senses soak in the aroma, and closing my eyes for a moment. As I opened my eyes, I saw the dog in my colony cuddle with two cats under one roof; I could see a girl cooking in the kitchen and tasting piping hot food right from the bowl, a child pillion riding and tugging on to her father closely.
It does not matter even if all these things have happened in a flash of a moment, it does not matter if they were just fleeting moments. They reminded me how much I loved and adored the nights, again.
And on days like these, only nights will have their say, making me stand by the window a little longer than the usual.
