Starry, starry night, Paint your palette blue and grey, Look out on a summer's day...
I am living in the Dark Ages. Every evening when I get back home from work, it's invariably the shimmery darkness that greets me without fail. My attic room with its slant of a window and speck of a balcony are insufficient respite. The Capital is reeling under severe power shortage, so hell, you've just got to grin and bear it.
Last night was fun though. We were all lolling around in the terrace- Fish, Joy, Small, Pretty and me. Small was singing weird Bollywood numbers in her slightly husky but curiously childish, sing-song voice, while Joy and Pretty were discussing sundry technical details of their new cell phones. Fish and I were star-gazing...
Fish tells me she knows all about stars. The Milky Way, the Great Bear, the planets. She points them out to me, even as Small pipes in with questions of her own about which planet is which, and why she couldn't spot Venus at nine in the night. I lie still, staring up at the sky, the voices fading in and out of my thought-stream, making small conversation, laughing appropriately at some little joke.
I don't mind the darkness so much. In fact, I quite like it. There's something very peaceful about darkness. Something friendly and warm. I always think darkness is liquid. It moulds itself to fit in to your moods. And darkness has colours. Amber for anger. Blue for love. Grey for pain. It's not feckless like moods. It holds fast, like an embrace, whatever be your mood.
Last night though, it was none of these hues. It was translucent, like a prism, radiating the colours of our mixed emotions.
I felt peace last night. And comfort, as I snuggled up to the darkness under the clear sky. I could feel the stars in my hair, twinkling with promise.
Darkness is a palette. I can paint pictures with it.
Last night was fun though. We were all lolling around in the terrace- Fish, Joy, Small, Pretty and me. Small was singing weird Bollywood numbers in her slightly husky but curiously childish, sing-song voice, while Joy and Pretty were discussing sundry technical details of their new cell phones. Fish and I were star-gazing...
Fish tells me she knows all about stars. The Milky Way, the Great Bear, the planets. She points them out to me, even as Small pipes in with questions of her own about which planet is which, and why she couldn't spot Venus at nine in the night. I lie still, staring up at the sky, the voices fading in and out of my thought-stream, making small conversation, laughing appropriately at some little joke.
I don't mind the darkness so much. In fact, I quite like it. There's something very peaceful about darkness. Something friendly and warm. I always think darkness is liquid. It moulds itself to fit in to your moods. And darkness has colours. Amber for anger. Blue for love. Grey for pain. It's not feckless like moods. It holds fast, like an embrace, whatever be your mood.
Last night though, it was none of these hues. It was translucent, like a prism, radiating the colours of our mixed emotions.
I felt peace last night. And comfort, as I snuggled up to the darkness under the clear sky. I could feel the stars in my hair, twinkling with promise.
Darkness is a palette. I can paint pictures with it.
posted by P at 1:44 PM
2 Comments:
do you know darkness that well?it's pretty the way you talk about it .........meet me one day and weilding your brush Fortunata...look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul....
it'll soothe me..make use of it...suffering has myriad colours...you know it so well pretty painter !;-)
pretty painter ...you know very well that game of colours...don't you...so Fortunata, look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul......
suffering has myriad colours...you know it so well......go on pretty painter!;-)
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