I lay asleep in my bed when a sudden gust of wind entering through the window awakened me. The night was engulfed in a blanket of silence. The stillness of the night was almost frightening. I looked out of the window and noticed that it was a full moon night and the surroundings were bathed in the silver light of the moon. Something within me forced me to get up .Dressed in my night clothes, bare feet I stepped out of the house. It may appear to be insane but at that moment it somehow seemed to be right. As I shut the door behind me once again I could feel the wind as it brushed lightly against my face. The wind like a seductress led me on and I followed as she marked the way by scattering dead leaves. As I walked bare feet the soles of my feet could feel the blades of grass underneath. The mild coarseness was transformed into roughness as I moved from the grassy lawns to the deserted streets. On my way I could smell the scent of jasmine in the air .The fragrance seemed to thicken the air. The bough of a nearby jasmine tree was shaken up by the wind and a bunch of flowers landed by my feet. I bent down and gathered a tiny heap in my hands. As I moved on led solely by the wind I reached an open field. Standing in the centre of the field I looked up at the skies. The sky was free of any clouds. The full moon shining in all its glory dimmed the effect of the nearby stars. Like a monarch it ruled the sky of stars. I was filled with awe looking at the moon. The experience was so unreal it appeared to be a dream. There was some sort of ethereal beauty associated with the night, something beyond the power of words to describe. Unlike the flashy beauty of the day this one was more of a sublime nature possessing a quiet kind of dignity. That the night associated with darkness could be so beautiful was hard to imagine. The night was playing with my senses arousing each one more powerfully as compared to the other. Suddenly the wind which till now was a gentle breeze began gathering force. As it blew against a line of trees the leaves rubbing against one another gave one the impression that they were whispering something softly to each other. I made a futile attempt to listen to what they were saying by listening carefully. The rhythmic rustling induced a sudden drowsiness in me and I longed to get back to bed. I made my way back to my room and went to sleep. T he next morning when I woke up I just had a few vague memories of the previous night. It must have been a dream I concluded. Just then I noticed that there was something held in my left hand. I realized that it was the jasmine flowers which I had picked up the previous night and which by now were dead. Looking at the flowers made me recall my midnight trip to the minutest o details and a smile spread across my lips as I slipped the dead flowers between the pages of a book.
The midnight trip
January 10, 2012