It’s 1:54 am and I can’t sleep

What’s keeping me awake ? Is it the rains ? Is it coffee ? Or the thoughts in my mind…

They say nothing good ever happens after 2 and here I sit looking at the clock move towards 2. Tomorrow I have school and I should be resting but …..

What am I thinking I ask myself, is it about the kind of person I am, or about how I am perceived by the world, or how the fellowship is changing me for better, or maybe it is why I don’t feel love, or why I can’t attach myself with anyone, people all around me feel love as if its that simple while I feel cold and numb, but then I have been that way forever, always knew what comes next, fully aware of my decisions, aware of their consequences, but today I am questioning myself, questioning if I am really doing things by actively thinking or am I being just impulsive, its 2 am …..

Heavy rains, dirty clothes, mosquitoes, ants, dirt, grim, papers surround me ….. Is this my destiny or am I destined for something bigger than this ?? Who knows maybe I am or maybe I am not ….

In these thoughts the clock strike 3 and I lie down in an attempt to sleep, but it as expected eluded me, I fix a green tea and walk out in my terrace humming random old Hindi tunes.

Delhi is a lovely city, full of hustle and bustle but unlike Mumbai, which never sleeps Delhi at 3 am is calm, quiet and fast asleep or is it ?

With these thoughts my eyes hover to this one girl standing out getting drenched in the rain, I couldn’t see her face or anything to be honest, just her in the dark night at 3 am getting drenched alone.

It instantly reminded me of a poem I read while back in school, the solitary reaper

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

This poem by William Wordsworth talks about a Scottish Girl alone working and singing a melancholic tale, it took me by my heart as this poem always held a soft corner in my heart, it was not about the girl but her melancholy which attracted me to her.

I sat there looking at the rain, sipping hot green tea, waiting for something to happen, it was almost 4am and the girl was still there.

“She looked the skies and asked god
Why God Why ? What wrong did I do ?
What is my fault that I have to ensure pain
Who did I wrong god who ?

In all her anger she challenged God
God, you are wrong, I am pure of heart
I dare you God, strike me down tonight
Or bow before my love at dawn”

Well let me go back to where I started, about me, well I am this complex person struggling to show my real side and find joy and love In my life.

I am not like a mirror but like a dusty glass, I don’t reflect or share but then I stick to the corners waiting to be discovered.

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