The daylight is slowly being overtaken by darkness

Not that it is her bedtime, there is still some time

Her mobile is already in auto-sleep mode

It has now become a ritual

She likes to turn off the lights and

Lie on her bed, on her side and watch outside

The big box-window, memories of her childhood

Is perfectly placed to see all nature’s glory of the night,

Except for a light

She places her head on the pillow in such a way, that the trees block that one light

It is now purely – nature and she, she and nature

She wonders why never before had she seen the beauty of the darkness

As she sees it now from her home

Her Paar

It is monsoon time of the year

The sky is like a watercolour painting

The artwork continues

Dark clouds here and lighter clouds there

Blending well in perfect contract

No jarring ridges, no dark blotches

Lighter clouds have come down, wrapping almost at the foothills

If you did not know, you would have thought that the mountains are clouds too

Darker ones

The clouds gives the illusion of a white saree, elegantly wrapped but

Carelessly coming off loose in the middle thus exposing the midriff

The end of the saree is flowing above, well above the mountain top

Constantly changing shape and colour

According to the mood of the breeze

She does not bother to know where the moon is hiding

Nor is there curiosity to know what the shape of the moon is tonight

At places light escapes and clouds look magically dramatic

Vibrant here, bright there, but mostly in shades of grey

Few fireflies raise themselves upwards, twinkling as they dance towards the sky

A toad croaks in the little waterbody meant for birds to bathe

Spot-bellied Owl, a permanent resident on the mango tree

Gives a shrill: “Who…who…whoo-who!”

The bamboo leaves, covered with raindrops glisten in the light of the unseen moon

Periodically, a handful drops on to the ground, like slow-motion shooting stars

The silhouette of the huge oak tree, with its branches spread out in all direction

Looks even more impressive as the lightning blazes the sky fleetingly

Then the sky rumbles, not too loud, softly, a lullaby

With a happy smile on her face, she dozes off

Only to repeat the ritual the next night

And the next night….