So, after a long, long time, there was a power fault somewhere in the city and our colony was plunged into delicious darkness.
In the days before the pretty low-cost power backup systems, when I was a little kid; small-towners us, I mean the whole neighborhood, used to gather onto lawns/rooftops in the event of a night powercut--- kids telling each-other spooky stories, dads together blaming the electricity department for irregular maintainence and picking the faults of the administration in general, and moms all together preparing dinner by candlelight and discussing the latest trends in jewellery to "101 Ways Of Tackling Unruly Children" and everything in between.
It was all interesting, in a way. And doesn't happen anymore.
But me, I preferred solitude today; and armed with a scarf, went outside on the patio, shut the door of the room to prevent any streaks of light from inside falling on the patio and thus spoiling the effect; and sat down to enjoy the scene.
There was a light mist all around, a nearly-half-moon floating in an ink-blue sky among silvery-gray clouds; and the leaves of the kachnaar tree against it. It was good--- the fuzzy, blurred shadows and silhouettes because of the mist, the absolute stillness of the night, the pale moonlight--- it was wonderful.
What disappointed me was the limited presence of this ambience around me. Lapsing into an almost-dream, I wished I could have a huge estate in the suburbs of some beautiful place. A stone mansion with long French windows overlooking wide gardens; a cobbled pathway; a panoramic view of the countryside; some old windmill in the distance; bright white fences; flowers; huge oak and maple trees...
Then a succession of images floated across. Rain, thunderstorm, lightning, candlelight reflected on polished wood, a friend, remembrances...
I woke up and smiled at the obsessive charm of such an unreal, idyllic life, something which happens only in novels. No way this was gonna happen to me. Ever. Reality is so completely different. In reality, I'm just this ordinary girl, hoping, studying and struggling to shape a life for herself.
In reality, I would most probably get to have nothing more than a moderately-sized house on a noisy city street.
:/
The mist had drifted away. The moonlight turned from pure clean pale blue to a dull sickly yellow; and the shadows and silhouettes of the tree leaves were starkly outlined, the jagged edges clearly visible.
No softened, blurred edges; no dreaminess.
Slightly disappointed, I came back inside.
In the days before the pretty low-cost power backup systems, when I was a little kid; small-towners us, I mean the whole neighborhood, used to gather onto lawns/rooftops in the event of a night powercut--- kids telling each-other spooky stories, dads together blaming the electricity department for irregular maintainence and picking the faults of the administration in general, and moms all together preparing dinner by candlelight and discussing the latest trends in jewellery to "101 Ways Of Tackling Unruly Children" and everything in between.
It was all interesting, in a way. And doesn't happen anymore.
But me, I preferred solitude today; and armed with a scarf, went outside on the patio, shut the door of the room to prevent any streaks of light from inside falling on the patio and thus spoiling the effect; and sat down to enjoy the scene.
There was a light mist all around, a nearly-half-moon floating in an ink-blue sky among silvery-gray clouds; and the leaves of the kachnaar tree against it. It was good--- the fuzzy, blurred shadows and silhouettes because of the mist, the absolute stillness of the night, the pale moonlight--- it was wonderful.
What disappointed me was the limited presence of this ambience around me. Lapsing into an almost-dream, I wished I could have a huge estate in the suburbs of some beautiful place. A stone mansion with long French windows overlooking wide gardens; a cobbled pathway; a panoramic view of the countryside; some old windmill in the distance; bright white fences; flowers; huge oak and maple trees...
Then a succession of images floated across. Rain, thunderstorm, lightning, candlelight reflected on polished wood, a friend, remembrances...
I woke up and smiled at the obsessive charm of such an unreal, idyllic life, something which happens only in novels. No way this was gonna happen to me. Ever. Reality is so completely different. In reality, I'm just this ordinary girl, hoping, studying and struggling to shape a life for herself.
In reality, I would most probably get to have nothing more than a moderately-sized house on a noisy city street.
:/
The mist had drifted away. The moonlight turned from pure clean pale blue to a dull sickly yellow; and the shadows and silhouettes of the tree leaves were starkly outlined, the jagged edges clearly visible.
No softened, blurred edges; no dreaminess.
Slightly disappointed, I came back inside.
