He climbed up the rickety iron stairs that lead up to the roof of his room. The cemented ledge on the corner awaited him for the night. He settled himself on the old rug and the cushion, and placed the hot mug of coffee by his side.
It was a routine. Every night he climbed up the roof and gazed at the sky above. The stars, the moon, the clouds. He would make patterns out of the stars, try and find faces in the moon, and look at the vast expanse with wonder.
He would see the birds flying away to their nests, making a racket as they flew by.
He would see the lights on the mountain far off go off one by one. Except for one light that always shone through out the night. If only he could find out what that light was.
He would see the lights on the mountain far off go off one by one. Except for one light that always shone through out the night. If only he could find out what that light was.
He wished it to be someone like him, someone who also admired the night time
as much as he did. One day I will find out, he would say every day.
as much as he did. One day I will find out, he would say every day.
Today, he snuggled up in the rags for it was a cold night. The sky was starless. The black and thick clouds thundered .The sky would light up at frequent intervals with lightning. And he tried to figure out if there was any pattern in those flashes.
The night watchman was taking his rounds of the area. He, too, would soon retire to his hut nearby. But He would wait. He would wait to see the clouds melt away without any spell of shower. He would see the sky lighten up from black to grey to light blue and orange till the sum came up completely, making him warm. He would hear the temple bells and rooster alarms. The birds would come out again from their nests and fly away some place.
It would be the time for him to go to bed!
Comments
you're already into spying or wat?? you'll do gr8 job of sting operations bedi ji..
;-)
so no sting involved here..
as such sting is getting a bad name dese days