The sun is about to set. Let ink spill. To fill the page that has been blank for too long. Too many words could have gone on it. Not nearly enough to do it justice. Can it find meaning in its barrenness? Perhaps there is purpose in being bare. And yet the compulsive need to fill all spaces. And in fullness find an anchor for the hollow heart that sinks in its own emptiness. The old junkyard you cleared out and are unsure what to make of. Meanwhile, the dark void makes space for nought.
As evening colors recede from the sky, the old fear of the night strikes the heart once again. The quiet punctured by dogs barking, presumably at the ghosts of the past that stir forth and peep in through the windows, entering through the tiniest crevices that you could not shut or stuff. It will be past midnight by the time they settle themselves in, to watch you sleep and then invade your dreams. If you actually manage to sleep, that is. Most nights, sheer terror makes you lie awake listening to recommended music. The playlists are created anew with never before heard songs that the ghosts would not recognize. And yet these unknown numbers form themselves into stories of your life, part experience, part imagination, unsure where the line is drawn. There is cheer across the room, and you can feel their movements with your eyes closed. How it happened would be worth a thought, if you weren’t trying to keep still, holding back tears that paid no heed to you. A few more hours you tell yourself, clutching the cushion,not daring to turn off the music for fear of silence, and praying that the phone’s battery lasts till dawn.
Sometime around 4 you think of the sun rising in some part of the world. Not yours. (Shift eastward). You sit up. The shadows are scattered around the room. Fading. Mellowed. They don’t mind conversations at this time. As if old friends meeting over coffee reminiscing good old times. You have your share of 4am coffees, and you can tell no one about these 4am friends. You lower the volume now, but the music is necessary, even in the background. Silence, crickets and the wheezing of your uninvited guests can be a lethal combination. It often means you miss the bird’s first chirp and the rooster’s call, but you have sought their forgiveness, time and again.
Finally at 6, when your phone has given up, and all sorts of alarms ring out in the neighbourhood, you find yourself alone. There are no farewells. You know that the relief is temporary.The effect of the painkiller that is the morning will eventually wear off. You allow yourself an hour of restful sleep. And you wake up without an alarm, telling yourself – Carpe Diem! Fill out the empty heart. Paint the canvas of the day with the brightest shades. In the midst of it all, an optimistic heart finds a moment to sink, in the background of a faint yelp of the homeless dog that spends its time chasing its own tail and duelling with fleas. You tap your heart and remind yourself - Seize the day. For the night will come soon to seize you.
As evening colors recede from the sky, the old fear of the night strikes the heart once again. The quiet punctured by dogs barking, presumably at the ghosts of the past that stir forth and peep in through the windows, entering through the tiniest crevices that you could not shut or stuff. It will be past midnight by the time they settle themselves in, to watch you sleep and then invade your dreams. If you actually manage to sleep, that is. Most nights, sheer terror makes you lie awake listening to recommended music. The playlists are created anew with never before heard songs that the ghosts would not recognize. And yet these unknown numbers form themselves into stories of your life, part experience, part imagination, unsure where the line is drawn. There is cheer across the room, and you can feel their movements with your eyes closed. How it happened would be worth a thought, if you weren’t trying to keep still, holding back tears that paid no heed to you. A few more hours you tell yourself, clutching the cushion,not daring to turn off the music for fear of silence, and praying that the phone’s battery lasts till dawn.
Sometime around 4 you think of the sun rising in some part of the world. Not yours. (Shift eastward). You sit up. The shadows are scattered around the room. Fading. Mellowed. They don’t mind conversations at this time. As if old friends meeting over coffee reminiscing good old times. You have your share of 4am coffees, and you can tell no one about these 4am friends. You lower the volume now, but the music is necessary, even in the background. Silence, crickets and the wheezing of your uninvited guests can be a lethal combination. It often means you miss the bird’s first chirp and the rooster’s call, but you have sought their forgiveness, time and again.
Finally at 6, when your phone has given up, and all sorts of alarms ring out in the neighbourhood, you find yourself alone. There are no farewells. You know that the relief is temporary.The effect of the painkiller that is the morning will eventually wear off. You allow yourself an hour of restful sleep. And you wake up without an alarm, telling yourself – Carpe Diem! Fill out the empty heart. Paint the canvas of the day with the brightest shades. In the midst of it all, an optimistic heart finds a moment to sink, in the background of a faint yelp of the homeless dog that spends its time chasing its own tail and duelling with fleas. You tap your heart and remind yourself - Seize the day. For the night will come soon to seize you.
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