I step outside to sample the night. This night bears a very different characteristic; it takes me a moment to register and mull over this fact. Copper skies greet me, such brilliance is an instant kick, and the cold wave presently afflicting these northern plains hits me, which I conversely find refreshing and upbeat. The nature of the night is gradually riding on my senses: I notice the way everything seems lit up by a pale metallic sheen – this is the effect of those rain-bearing clouds; such detail in surroundings is hard to believe at 3 in the morning (the last full moon I encountered was on 19th, 13 days back, hence another moonlight night is out of context, which further perplexes me). These moisture-laden winds carry the smell of earth (Petrichor). Leaves occasionally communicate through a murmur. There is perfect isolation, this being post-11AM and pre-5AM time. I am nearing a sensory experience akin to the hills, and considering rolling in my bed later in mute satisfaction, if not for the discordant ambulance siren, and a persistent stream of loudspeaker noise (sounds like a ‘Jagran’ somewhere about our X-ing, or in Daliganj) that disturb this romantic murmur.
I come back with a chill. Fingers shift to the adjacent keys in their rapid irrythymic shiver. My nose bears some sensation, finally, after several days of staying indoors inside the warmth of faux furs. I again failed to develop a winning strategy to life in my Zen state, but that's usual. Pensively I blog.
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