The flow of emotions, night comes with.....

As I stare at the screen of my laptop, with my fingers efficiently pressing the chosen-ones through an array of keys with a rhythm matching the one with which different thoughts strike in my mind, I simply take in the atmosphere encompassing my senses. The  cool breeze, brushing past my body, is chilly enough to refill my sensations with an energy, gentle beams of which I feel to be emanating from within my soul. It fills my nostrils, my nostrils letting the aura in my body as it opens a new doorway for each cell of mine. I can feel it swishing past the fog overshadowing me, as it penetrates deep within, making way for something better -hope and inspiration. My tormented soul feels alive, the emptiness previously running through my veins engulfing in itself. My  lips hum along the Titanic theme "Rose" softly. Some things are composed to be eternally beautiful and immortal. This theme is one of those.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7WVQXlVLzcU&feature=related

At this late hour, I'm wide awake. I have legitimate reasons to be. I rarely get a chance to rejoice the night time. I just got one.
Twilight, just before the sunrise, is referred to as a glint of hope by many. To me, the stars embedded in the night sky, gleaming with all their might, yet unsuccessful to be brighter than the moon brings the same feeling of optimism. With the arrival of night, comes a number of different faces of life. For some, it makes their lives cease. For some, it's just the inception of what has to come their way. At night, gloom and pessimism walk in,  holding hands with joy and mirth. A run-down house round the nook, in which a father is engrossed in thinking if he'd be able to feed his children the next day. The little children being fast asleep, dreaming, oblivious of the rest of the world. From few yards away, comes the loud sound of music, which can make anybody move. Friends cracking with laughter, gathered around the bride-to-be, who is dreaming about the new life, she's about to step in. Miles apart, a family walks into a shopping mall, the mother assuring her daughter to buy the branded hand-bag she keeps asking for. They are being watched, out of the corner of a pair of glittery eyes. The spectator, a beggar wolfing down the piece of bread, which she managed to buy after knocking the windows of many cars asking for a penny, as the baby, in her lap shifts uncomfortably, weeping.
Pitch- black nights. Someone, enveloped by dark, asking for forgiveness, kneels in front of an invisible God. It makes his heart pure of all the material things. A student, half-awake, half-asleep, is preparing for the test next day. The smoke, issuing from his cup of coffee, disappears into the air, leaving a narrow trail. Underneath a blanket, a vibrating phone alerts the person dozing off, followed by his fingers hitting the keypad to text back. A low sound is produced by the whistling of the peon, down some lanes.
The soft moonlight filters through the clouds, as the moon makes its way across the sky elegantly. Being the perfect epitome of selflessness, it spreads its light for those who need it, and equally for those who don't. Shooting stars offer a precious make-a-wish moment for an optimist. As for a pessimist, this moment turns into an unlucky one. Airplanes, with their flickering lights, set sail in an endless smoky sea, with the moon acting as a lighthouse.
Nights are beautiful. They make your observations even more beautiful, letting you observe what days fail to let you as the hustle-bustle, the calm touches the bottom of your soul.

Let live. Would you?

It's been long, since the last time I poured my heart out through this blog of mine. In the meantime, several new things came along the way, some I liked, others I rejected with utter disapproval, though it didn't change the way others look at it or let me rephrase it: It did change nothing.

Sometimes, life just seems so dependent on others. When you start judging yourself on the basis of 'what-will-others-think?' , putting them in-charge to determine the worth of the life, you are so-called the owner of, many of your precious moments are rendered for the sake of pleasing those "OTHERS" who, a vast majority of them, are too busy making your life worse to be pleased.
People have mouths. Big ones. Neither do they know an iota about your life, nor they understand a bit of  it, nevertheless, they talk about it, run a search on your life, make the results suit their desire of defaming you, one way or the other, tag you under many false labels,  find a loophole in your personality and there they get moving, making it bigger for others to realize how wrong of a path you are on, making many fingers point at you and follow your trail all life long. In this cacophony, your own voice gets drawn in. Even though, you shout at the top of your lungs, no one seems to hear a thing, like your voice is dissipating into thin air.
Call me nuts. Call me dumb. Well, I guess I'm one, when it comes to understanding what do people get out of poking their nose in someone else's life? What kind of satisfaction comes along with misery, someone else's? I wonder how can they not find better things to do with their time than being concerned about others' life?  Morality asks us to respect diverse opinions, views and beliefs but then why do people run over imposing their values on others?  One can not be judged on the basis of values, which aren't their own.
 Sometimes, I feel like I'm in an endless maze, groping in the dark to find my way out, which doesn't exist. With darkness closing in, I try to tell people who I really am, that I have the right to live my life the way I want it and that they have whatsoever no right to judge me but they just stand there, some laughing, some snickering. Then, hopeless, I turn to faces I recognize and love the most, to see them pointing at me with voices of "We told you, we told you" banging at my ear-drums. My vision starts to blur and my eyes move out of focus. It gets hard to breathe. I hear a thud. It's me hitting the ground. I'm out....