Wednesday, January 13, 2016

The Sounds of the Night

I can hear the coughing; deep, guttural and repetitive. It pierces the night and crashes against the eardrums. It comes out of the quiet of the night and reminds me that there is life in the neighbourhood even at this late hour and that I am not alone in this world.

Just a few hours ago, the sounds of the mehndi jar against my thoughts. Choreographed, loud, and ostentatious. And then suddenly this stillness and quiet. The sounds of the night, within the same night, yet so glaringly different. One, all about the harsh realities of this world, the other real and human.

Now, in this stillness, I sit quiet, all to myself and claim my thoughts. All to myself. Mine and no one to share with, no one to intrude and no one to take it away. A dive into my own self, deep, and indulgent. I can now converse within and sort out the equations this life throws at us everyday. That is what life is, new equations to solve everyday.

Its been like any other day. Hard, busy and insistent. Breakfast meeting with an old colleague, not nostalgic at all..just about facts of how we have moved on in life, into different areas and how the ensuing years have widened a closeness of thoughts and goals. This is what distance and the search for sustenance does to us. Takes away warmth and replaces it with common interests.

Later a transaction to be resolved. Nothing warm about that either. Cups of tea and discussions, ending in a final agreement..all encapsulated in a couple of signatures on a paper and witnesses. At least the day was interspersed by a choice lunch. Regularly, some melancholy wistful thoughts would pop up, about people one would have liked to meet, but they were not there sadly.

And so came the night and a late start to a mehndi. Young people, dancing to filmi tunes, all choreographed. It leaves the taste of the artificial, grasping and unnecessary. The burger misses, who danced to the tune of Indian songs, wearing flashy revealing clothes. Lots of oohs and aahs, cooing and pecking on the cheeks. It came as a relief to be able to withdraw to ones sanctuary and home. Alone to oneself, able to look back and analyse all that is happening. This quiet, it nurtures thoughts, memories and wistful wishes. Is alone the only form whence we can be at peace? Are we not better at connecting our souls to other humans -man has ever been born a community animal. Are there no souls who are a total fit together...and therefore are we really born in loneliness? One awaits those souls one can intertwine with...that is probably one of the reasons of life's being, to search and find and connect.

As this night will recede, so will I slowly go back to being what I am in this world. A commercial human, grabbing his space in this place. No sanctuaries then. Just raw living. So therefore, a blessing from Allah these quiet hours to lick ones wounds and repair oneself, in anticipation of the next day, when the sounds of the night will recede and we will face the world once again, renewed and rejuvenated to counter its daily equations.

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