Midnight Thoughts

I never had the privilege of admiring the starry night sky. I live on the ground floor and have no access to a terrace or roof of any kind. All I can do is stand outside in the veranda and look up at the violet sheet of unfathomable material, hidden by the frame of trees and buildings. As a child, we assume that the sky is black during the night. Gradually, we discover the truth of nature and the lies we are fed shamelessly and innocently. The sky is not black. It is dark, yes, but not black.

I'll tell you what's black. It's when you close your eyes and concentrate on your inner being. When your soul reciprocates your love for yourself. With open eyes, when you stare into oblivion in a room bereft of light. Where your only companion is feeble snores and occasional creaks of the bed. Where you can hear the faint sound of dogs howling, drunk men singing, the sound of cars prancing across the main road and the wind flowing because it's too quiet to hear things that you ought not to hear.

It's also when you realize the most that you need someone to hold on to. When your eyes defy you, when you just can't sleep at all. That is darkness. That's what defines the color black. That is why we are afraid of dark souls because we, in that phase of night, are longing to fall asleep and rise on a new day with new hopes and new dreams, again, waiting for the night, the darkness to fill in. It's not the starry sky that awaits but the journey of self-appreciation and self-loathing that we go through every night, in our bedrooms.