Posted in Musings

Flecks of Light

The flight back to Bangalore was also a tiny one, same as the one we took to Belagavi. Two seats on either side and tiny overhead compartments – it felt more like a long bus than a metal tube racing through the sky.

I wonder if smaller planes fly closer to the earth. Outside my window, I could still see tiny light clusters of light down below throughout the flight, as if we were simply hovering over a huge family of fireflies. Some of them filed in slow and perfect lines to secret destinations. In the overcast weather, the light clusters seemed to fade away from time to time, or sometimes blink in unison, and then came back in orange splendour, and I wondered if they weren’t sending me a code in Morse.

I smile in spite of myself, amused at this thought. Masks and face shields can indeed be a saving grace when your lips threaten to make your insanity public. We sit veiled in crowds and can bear to chortle and grin with a abandon at the oddest of times.

Alas, my camera doesn’t have the reach that my eyes do, and I’m unable to have you, dear reader, also witness the striking islands of white and red flames, the intricate hues of life, that lie scattered in my view. It is a resplendent beauty that evades being caught in time. Like all of us too, in a way, I suppose.

I move in darkness, taking in the expanse of their bright tint, and wonder whether there might not be a girl down there looking out of her window and meeting my eyes, somewhere in the midst of a lone cloud. We move in time, two flecks of light in each other’s dreams.

Could she be writing of me too?

Author:

A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

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