It’s not feeling quite right, though the stars are on tonight…

An airplane passes through the stars. It is easy to confuse it with a twinkling star, a shooting star, but nights and nights of sky gazing teach you the difference, and of all the things, you start predicting the direction that a plane will take, and believing that from the 11th floor terrace, you have a much better view of the stars, the moon than from the lower grounds. That thought is strangely comforting, and substantiated by the view of the world down and all around you. Some buildings rise higher, and some lower than yours, but none reach even remotely close to the flying machine in the sky, it always remains a distant dream.  The high rising towers all complement the stars in the sky with their blinking lights, and the few vehicles on the road appear as tiny as the plane in the sky, and both seem to be in no hurry to reach their destination, in sync with the stillness and silence of night.

The last night- well, for now, for a few years, long enough for things and people to change, to remain not as I know of them, as I am leaving them. Partings are always awkward, with all their uncertainty and not knowing when would be the next time air. If you’ve already been through times high and low, moods good and bad, phases happy and sad with the people, then there is a sense of assurance, a belief, of the strength of the bond, of your place in their life, of staying in touch, of meeting again. But what about those relations, which were yet in their nascent stage, those stories which had just begun, and on a very happy and promising note, which still managed to fill your heart with joy every time a new page was added. But suddenly, leaving all the pages blank, you fear you’ve reached straight at the last page.

Those incomplete stories are the ones which are causing me the sadness. This night, as much as I try not to, is making me imagine what colors the future would have shown had I not to leave suddenly, what if I had known that I have only 9 months in the capital! Would I’ve restrained myself from anything, anyone, or rushed into anything, anyone, I know not. ‘What if?’ is usually a rhetorical question, without any logical answer, and I’ve realized that with time. But that doesn’t stop the question from spurting in the mind.

Jaane kya baat hai, jaane kya baat hai… Neend nahi aati , badi lambi raat hai…


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