The Nights of the Firefly

Fireflies in a jar

The monsoon has just took an hiatus after barging on my window silts for what seemed like hours, the night still resounded with the faint dripping of the raindrops, yet there was an unusual silence about the dark veil it wore. The cold night which was reeling under the rain was just released and like a convict freed from the prison, it took in a deep breath, a profound, prolonged breath. The tress swayed and banged their heard on my bedroom walls. The night was poignant and yet there was one visitor who was not gloomy, one who was high in spirit, dancing around with a limy lantern on her tail.

Every monsoon she had came to visit me, day in and day after and this rainy night was no different, betwixt the occasional lashing of the coconut palms and the slow insidious murmur of the cricket. Slowly gliding into the darkness of my room, the strange ghostly lights, yellow, green and fluorescence of the chemical light, as though she in her gentle palanquin. She swayed and she glided, she smiled and she frowned and she sat on my bed with child-like innocence. A creature so pure, so beautiful, that her faint yellowish green glow has filled up more than just a room, it has filled my heart, the gentle sublime firefly!

“The fireflies o’er the meadow In pulses come and go.” 

– James Russell Lowell

Have you ever seen a lake at night filled with fireflies, if you have not then you have seen nothing. The beautiful sight of floating lights that embellish the nights in a festive canopy, they go on and off in a blaze with subtle demeanor. My room was filled with them many a times, gaining shelter from the tormenting rain that just went by they came in. I do keep my windows open and welcoming, they are never closed and hence I do have a large number of visitors day and night and my little friends here were more than just acquaintances. They would sit at the various places that they felt comfortable, transforming my room clad in darkness into a sight as serene as the night at the lake.

fireflies at night

But Alas! the times have changed and changed a lot too, the lantern like angels do not come visit anymore, the night skies are darker than the used to me, shrouded by darkness and the pessimistic cacophony of the rumbling concrete jungle on the rise. The fireflies have long been gone, but even today as the rain battles on my walls, trickling and spraying off my window rails, I dream of the lake, the dark, the blue, the silent lake filled with a million tiny sparks in the starry sky.

When Gods Fall and Angels Die : The Diary of a Victim

I have thought long and hard, whether to write about this or not, especially when what I have to say has much to do with another person and his life. I wouldn’t want to damage a life that is not mine. Had it been my life I could have risked it, but not with another man’s life. But then what I had to tell had its own significance and due importance in my life that I just had to write about it. Otherwise it would just be an injustice to myself and my blog which has always sincerely housed by dark secrets and flamboyant triumphs alike. And then I decided I had to write and write such that no one is hurt but so is my heart poured out and emptied.
When it happened to you, I was happy that it was not my life, but now when it had happened to me I see no path that will cover my speedy escape, no path fast enough to run away from myself. It has happened to me, but how often does it happen to one? How often does it happen that some one whom you have so far placed in a castle of gold and ivory in your mind has just fallen short? How often does some one you so dearly love, you so idolized just does something really stupid? How often do they with that one action, annihilate a lifetime of memories? It’s cruel, it’s demeaning that such would happen, but isn’t life cruel and unforgiving to begin with.
It has now happened to me, it’s not my first time but so far they were people who had not touched my life in flesh and blood, so far they have been the ones that had the limelight shine on them, the ones that owned the celluloid and the ones that roamed the green fields. Its one thing that such surreal people blinded by fame be idiots by own making, but it’s an entirely different matter that someone so real, so close, so kith and kin do what that can but be termed ‘stupid’. The facts of the dark be lit by no more light because there lies no pleasure in opening wounds that has decided to heal just on the surface even after so long. But its never the moments of thoughtlessness that causes the real harm, it’s the grueling hours that you are left with yourself, its unforgiving and heartless in torture, the grueling in hell!
But after long hours and after many a sunrises and sunsets when I finally got back what bit was left of my broken mind in order, though the damage was done the one person I could not bear to forgive was myself, not after all that I could have done and I did not, not when I have turned it around many times in the many replays of life I lived. But then I asked myself, how and why did this happen? What is it that one thing that changed in life so fast? May be I was too sure, too soon. But was I fair, fair in placing all those responsibilities on a person’s shoulder without his consent, fair in believing that someone will keep the promises that he had not given. The truth is I do not know, there a part of paining head that begs to kill him and another part that despises no one but myself. the truth is I don’t know.
I had to write about it, its life and it never takes its turn for your liking. It plays hard and fast, it always has and it always will. Always so full of lies, lies there, lies here, lies everywhere. Its such a shame that we live a life full of lies, may be just may be life is just another lie, a lie that we all believe to be true, a lie we believe on convenience alone. Isn’t it shameful or I am just still in a haze. What ever be the state that is mine, the ugly fact is that when the gods do fall and when angels die it’s never a pretty sight to behold. It’s a rape, a rape of the human mind and the mirage of trust.