Night Meld

I hate nature most of the times. Its annoying and it has bugs which sting and the rest of it. The times I don’t hate nature are the times I remember with the greatest clarity. I kid you not I have the worst memory ever and when I remember something its an achievement for me. I have studied English poetry for the last two years of my life, I have read the works of Keats and Wordsworth and others like them, and I could be there in the poem sometimes but sometimes totally out of it. The part of nature I remember best is the night. The night sky is something I really love; it provokes the most introspection and the greatest surges of creative energy I have ever experienced. The stars and of course the moon. Memories of the night from all over the world are still with me, from my youngest days to right now.
I remember the nights in Goa when I was a young boy. We would be traveling home after visiting people, and the road would be illuminated only by the stars and the moon. The beach on the side of the road and the waves would punctuate the scene of course. The night always makes me remember, my mind can forget the nights but my body never will. The distant places appear in my head and my memory is flooded with the various nights I have seen. I remember a night I spent in Switzerland, the chateau I was staying in was intricately placed at the middle of a hill and I could glance towards the Alps. I remember seeing the sky a little hazy with a few clouds in the sky, however the Alps were glistening silver under the moon and it was a wonderful sight. I remember the night outside my window from my brief stay in a flat in London. The whole place seemed pale and London’s aged buildings seemed regal under the full moon. Bangkok was another lovely moon it was a different colour. I really loved Hong Kong especially when I had just crossed over using the ferry, the divide between Kowloon and Hong Kong and the illuminated bay. Even the moon in Dubai from my rented studio room was beautiful, the desert itself was a different colour and felt like a different entity, almost like you could live there and it was not really that harsh. The most recent night i remember however is one fine night somewhere in the midst of maharashtra, a handful of gentlemen and i were labouring to save our journey and we worked under an overcast night sky. I remember the fireflies illuminating the dark road, and a hardy company set off down a long road walking to shelter. On the open road when the fireflies were gone, still the fellowship trudged along. the skies were filled with thunder and lightning and the air was cool. we got there and i ll never ever forget the fireflies and what they did for my spirit.
The truth is no matter how many places you visit in your lifetime the nights at home will still dominate your memory. I remember one party at my friend’s place (you lot were in khopoli, classmates that is) we had been partying since ten thirty and his house is situated right on juhu beach. It was four thirty and just a few of us lying around drunk, with the hookah in hand gazing out to sea. That was a powerful night and one I really love to remember. My all time favourite memory of the night would have to be from home itself. Some nights a little after the monsoon one can see the horizon from my house, dotted with little gold specks, fishing boats all out at sea like a gold chain. This is one of the most amazing ones I can remember. During winter, very early into the hours of the morning the moon would be right above the sea. The waves reflect the most beautiful silver I have ever seen. Its very cool in my compound (I love oomer park, its so green and I can easily see the sea living happily in south Bombay) the coconut trees sway in the breeze and the cool wind tickles you. It’s so silent in a bustling city like mine that I forget where I am. I m lost for at least an hour on nights like these staring out at the sea, trapped in love, wonder and the peace of my mind. Its times like these when a special tingle goes up and down your body and you really never feel better. Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic who gets lost easily in the nights and in my thoughts. The nights I remember meld into one now and then and really I become comfortably numb.
“Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light”
Dylan Thomas
siddhant(since the daylight has faded and you have fought for your day embrace the night and let go..)