It was a beautiful night, still in its freshness from the rains. I sat in the dark for long, staring into different sounds take shape before me. From far off a lonely train whistled, the cricket just got louder, the Jasmine seemingly distant in its headiness..I listened to everything but myself...I seem to be well hidden somehow. The neighbor's house has strange Geisha designs all over the curtains, golden under dull lamps full of secrecy. I wonder if they hear their own loneliness under the clutter of children shouting, the blaring TV and a dictionary full of happiness..
Curled up on my own I look at the figurines and wonder if they would walk out of the curtains at some point..bored beyond existence of the same style, the same beauty, the same soft lights and their secrecy..would they at some point of time want to walk a street full of sunshine and feel the warmth on their backs? would they be unsettled if their painted faces were no more, their secrets out to be stared upon, the paint a faint yellow light and the gold of the lamps a mere memory?
I listened then to 'Lonely streets'..looking for some sunshine..even as a frog croaked and the rains they fell again in their little drizzle.
(Image from http://fancy-tshirts.com/daily-tee/daily-tee-oni-geisha-t-shirt-design )
