Stories Need To Be Told...

...lest they dissolve into oblivion.
There are moments that need to be captured and made eternal simply because there is a wealth of emotions and spirituality in them. Painting a picture with words is one of the ways to immortalize these for people who were not there and for the future generation.
This is my contribution....

Saturday, February 11, 2012


I stay awake at night and marvel at the solitude. I savor the silence and the peace and when I am lucky I am accompanied by the moon. I get some sort of selfish satisfaction in the thought that most people lay in bed asleep, while I am able to stretch my day, just a few hours more. This time, for me. Here in my little corner of the metropolis, my town. In the middle of chaos and tumultuous events which I hold no control, this little time I steal. I collect myself and find myself finding me. When it rains, it heightens the contentment. Whatever city noise there is left is drowned out by the gentle rhythmic pounding of the rain. Things are as it should be. I am me. Me, I am. Then I allow slumber to claim me. Soflty, like a warm embrace. I succumb to the fickle nature of being man, I submit to a thoughtless revelrie. Early enough to provide me strength, late enough to get a glimpse of morning. For morning is yet another day, a gift to wake up to; to love, to care, to hurt, to dream, to be alive. Yes, after my musings at 2 am. I sleep. Goodnight.