Night Lights

There is more to astronomy than just a lesson in physics.

Procrastination, I suspect, is soon going to be added on to the list of those seven deadly sins, increasing the tally to a total of eight. So what is a sin exactly? I mean, how much should an act have to fall for it to be considered what the dictionary defines as- breaking a "moral law". I feel it may be perceived by an individual as a guilt inducing activity. 

And let us just agree that losing weight, or becoming ‘fitter’ as some may choose to call it, is something that at least forty percent of the world’s population vouches for in the name of a New Year resolution. A resolution that is so irresolutely broken in the days that soon follow. In the midst of a sincerely hectic schedule, all my activities had unconsciously centered themselves around my table. I had lost my morning exercise routine to something that required greater attention. Naturally, my physical activity had been reduced to almost nothing. And of course, with the continued intake of the heavenly delights promised by a rich Indian home-made meal, I ended up shamelessly putting on a few extra kilos.

With some major papers done and dusted, I decided to kick start the the rickety old scooter that my exercise schedule had become. But the key to that scooter was nowhere to be found. And I was one hundred percent sure that they had been hidden by the wily elf that procrastination is.

Then after a few words of what I can safely call "advice" from from my mum, I went outside for a post dinner stroll in the neighborhood street.

It felt different, slightly, but different.

I saw the light from the street lamp filter through the very tree that had been a plant-let some odd eleven years ago. I was amazed as the shadows shifted shapes, while the branches waltzed in the wind. The rays of light as they screened through the spaces, were like spotlights, lighting the path of every little arthropod as they scurried around aimlessly. The tiniest bits of silica lay mingled with the dust all around, reflecting this radiation; giving the illusion of an embellished saree draped so very wonderfully on a bride on her most special day.

The cricket synchronized its chirping with the honking of distant cars somewhere close by. I could have sworn he was attempting to recreate a concerto with one of Beethoven's symphonies. The only thing that had been missing from the picture was a sky full of stars. No description of the night is ever complete without their mention. And so I shifted my gaze towards the hazy dark sky, but they were nowhere to be found. I roamed around in circles, front-stepped, back-stepped, side-stepped and even stepped over the pavement. I was wrong in thinking that becoming a foot taller may prove to be helpful.

You see, that's the thing about city skies. Unless you are some astronomy enthusiast who knows a thing or two about where to look and how to look, everyday people like me find it difficult to find those glowing orbs that float far away. The pursuit for momentary happiness all in vain.

I want to see a sky full of stars. The colossal nothingness glorified in movies. The same stars that are beautifully described in endless piles of books. The glittery skies that have had countless songs written about them. The iconic stars that each Disney fairy-tale wakes up to. The prudent stars that have guided our kind since times unknown. The dazzling stars that weave fascinating patterns, we have come to call constellations. The suffering stars that are no longer visible in these concrete jungles, shrouded in the ghastly blanket of black and strangling smoke. The bright stars that once used to light up these nights. These obscured stars that have gone somewhere in hiding.

I want to see a clear sky that accompanies me on nights such as these, when I am out for a stroll. Something to distract me, something to escape into, while I run away from these tragic kilos.