Shimmering Fireflies, Moonlit Skies And Cloudbursts

Photo by Jim Strasma on Unsplash

There is a moon in the pitch-black night sky and a bright star close to it. Both dangled in the dark ocean of space far far away from the pull of our world. It’s the Ramzan moon. Stare closely and observe deeply for a minute, you’ll notice the thin crescent which is the moon and completing its outline is a tunnel. Look at it and keep gazing and it resembles like the crescent is a light coming out of a dark tunnel. It feels like the stars are but shimmering fireflies, motionless flies blowing lights in a dark cave full of witchcraft. Outside this cave lies the magical light. Of which right now only a curve is visible. The moon appears to be an opening onto something. What is it? I don’t know yet but I aim to find out soon. Is it important to find out? I don’t think so. But I want to know what does it lead to. So every day after sunset I sit down here and gaze at the twilight sky. I watch the fireflies that are not moving. But twinkling. Many of them haven’t moved since ages. But some on rare days cut loose from their string and fall astray. They fall to the ground perhaps. I won’t know. I have only seen them fall from their seat. And out of habit I close my eyes and make wishes. My wishes haven’t changed from long. Nothing has.

Another day it started to thunder just after sundown. The sky was full of black clouds moving speedily and weighing above our head. It was still the middle of summertime. Calendar forecast said it won’t rain until another month-and-a-half but here were black clouds gathering weight and dazzling light, dispatching beacons of their arrival. Who would you believe now? The written word of calendars or your sights and senses. There was also wind. Excited coconut trees swayed, dust rose in circles and thus it rose. It’s like the heavens opened their doors and out came what was idling long to impress upon the warm earth. First few drops, then some more and suddenly, losing all rhythm and theory, as if some cloud ruptured against all written word, it poured heavy. People sitting by the sea with their fishing ropes made a run to the safety of their homes and so did those who were sitting under coconut trees chit-chatting. The dogs playing nearby ran too. I wouldn’t know where they made their run to but they disappeared real quick. I had taken shelter under a banyan tree but soon it occurred to me how this banyan was of no help against these thundershowers. So I swiftly escaped to the safety of my four walls too.

Standing by the door, drying myself I was wondering about the moon and that star. What must have happened to them? Did they giggle when we all ran? Were they even able to see us or did black clouds cover their sight? I wouldn’t know now. I made a mental note to inquire it the next day. After all, however harsh and heavy, the rain always finishes, the water always flows down and the sun always flashes again. And stars and moon, they always twinkle back from their seats.