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The Night Drizzle

The night was brilliant, thought someone from somewhere, alone. But the girl was irritated. She was at her home, chatting with her classmates through her mobile phone. The night sky was clouded, and it was drizzling too, she thought. Even though she was in the company of her friends, the girl felt bored. She felt sad too. The boredom or the sadness was not due to anything bad, or may be that was, she thought. She had no idea why she felt sad. Now she started feeling irritated too. The weather might be the reason, but she had never felt such a way under similar conditions before. She felt all her moments are shrinking into single urge, one emotional necessity: to search out the reason for her unhappiness.

Then she saw someone banging on her Orkut community page which was attached with her mobile connection. At first she felt a little awkward to accept the chat request regarding her irritated mood that night. But then the other person was her new friend. She did not want to give him a negative message about herself. So she started the conversation with a reply “Hi” for his “Hi”. “The night is brilliant, isn’t it?”—he said. “No, I don’t think so.”—she said, even if she thought that would have been a wrong way to greet a comparative stranger. “Are you sad?”—came the question from the other side. And she told him whatever she felt like. And again felt embarrassed thinking how would the young man on the other side would take all her thoughts that fall comfortably within the margin of nonsense. She wanted to justify her feeling in a better way. So she said—“Rest of my friends... they are all trying to enjoy each and every moment...”

It was the silence from the young man that answered her. She felt bad about beginning such a conversation. And then a text pack was emptied on her screen. She read them and felt she found the reason for her sadness. She read the text again. It said: “I too enjoy each and every moment. But sometimes happiness becomes a veil that hides true knowledge and understanding of the world, and in those times sadness becomes an effective tool. It makes us think about ourselves, the world, everything that caused us to be sad. We understand the world better. And in this way, I know how to enjoy my sadness too.”

She realized that the reason for her sadness and irritated mood that night was happiness. An unending, forceful, wild expression circulated her through the conversation with her friends. They were merry making, cheering at every moment of existence. But as the young man said, she felt the happiness as a veil over her understanding of the world and herself. She said—“I got my answer.” The young man seemed pleased with himself. He said—“Oh that is great. May I know what the answer is?”

Instead of answering the question, the girl decided to hang up. And she did. The night was getting terrible for someone, some where: the young man. But he understood what the girl had said and felt happy for the small pang seeping into his heart.


Kay said…
I know this pang...

its name is: Restless.
ANULAL said…
Thanks Kay. You are right.
Anya said…
Touching word my friend !!!!
ANULAL said… long to see you...Thank you for your words. How are you?

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