It’s 3 am. The sky outside is thundering and pouring. I can’t sleep. I find the night so much more interesting than day, that I don’t feel like sleeping over it. Right now, all is quiet. Am alone in my room, on my bed. This space is so secure, so comfortable, so completely mine. No intruders, no door bells, no phone calls. Nobody to see me or judge me or question me. I feel free of all inhibitions at nights.

Sometimes, I light up a cigarette, look outside the window and just stare at the still darkness. The residential buildings are all so still but it feels as if they are speaking. The silent motion less night speaks more than the commotion of the day would ever tell. This one time in Bangalore, I was driving back home from my friend’s place in Fraser Town. The city looked so different at night. Same roads seemed wider because there were no traffic, suddenly you feel you can see more clearly the colors of the buildings, the art on the walls and you can clearly read the sign boards. There seemed to be more dogs on the street at night and they had this look on their faces which suggested I was intruding in their business, serious business!

It was around 1.30 at night, I lived in Ulsoor, but for some reason I kept driving on the Old Madras Road towards Indira Nagar instead of taking the right turn towards my home after Ulsoor lake. Those who are familiar with the area would remember the graveyard on Old Madras Road. I stopped in front of its gate. I had this extreme urge to take a walk inside the grave but didn’t quite have the courage. So I just stayed in side my car and stared at the stillness of the graves for a while.  There was nothing around, no human, no dogs, just graves, darkness and silence. But in that brief moment, I gathered so much more than I ever could during the countless times I have driven on that road while visiting my then boyfriend who lived in Indira Nagar.

About ten fifteen minutes later, a police van distracted me. I noticed them driving by and parking at a distance. I didn’t want to catch their attention so I left.

The stillness of the grave, it lingered on.

Night comes with its own agenda. You are the master of your days, you are the doer. But night, night controls you. It controls your mind and soul in more ways than you would ever know. I have felt this control. I have done weird things that I would never do in the day time. Sometimes on something very important I have felt completely different emotions during the night, and the moment it dawned my emotions changed. There are several such things, which should better remain unsaid at this point.

Sharing with you an image of the night in and outside my bedroom. What does the night mean to you? Do share!

5 responses

  1. lovely post…some of my thoughts regarding the night beauty i could find resonance here :)

  2. Great piece of written work, never thought about night controlling me… which is so true….

  3. That I am reading this post at night… I believe says it all- doesn’t it?
    I do want to walk inside a crematorium and then at night, if I live to tell my tale after that…

    Hugs xoxo

  4. Nice post. I have always wondered what is it with nights that makes one all excited and eager to do things which you don’t end up doing the next day. I wrote a blog on this a couple of years back – maybe you would like to read (http://strictly-my-views.blogspot.in/2010/05/what-is-it-with-nightand-with-mornings.html).

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About Sanjukta

Sanjukta Basu is a Feminist Scholar, Journalist, Lawyer, Published Author, Photographer and more. This blog is a repository of her more than 17 years of writing on diverse topics. Click here to read her bio and find contact details.