I am sitting at my balcony right now. Friday 6 pm. Done for the week. It is a glorious hour of the evening, golden sunlight, pale in its fading glory casts long slanting beams of brightness amidst deepening shadows. The swimming pool, with its still water, almost smiles at me in its mute permanence. Flowers, yellow, purple and blood red, add color and romance to the scenario. There is a slight chill in the air, a slight, but ever present forewarning of colder days to come.
A rare pause in the frantic struggle.
It’s amazing how much the mind can work during moments of external serenity. What every man feels during such moments of solitude shall be special to him, and him alone. I miss the place I come from, and despite the picturesque scene before me, I feel there is some beauty in the world that just cannot be replicated.
I feel empty without the one I love. It feels as though years have passed, though it has not yet been two months.
Gentle zephyrs tickle my face. I decide to indulge in one of my favorite games, one I have played since I was a little child. I close my eyes and try to guess and imagine which place the wind is coming from. The futility of the game never dawns on me somehow.
I look up at rapidly shifting clouds in the skies, moving and changing colors at the same time. What is happiness? Is there a God? What has he planned for me? What do the stars tell us at night?
I realize that I am but one man, pondering over what has perplexed mankind for centuries. A sense of inertia envelops me, and I sink back further into my chair.
I decide not to spoil the special moment. Not knowing answers makes life worth living, and the good fight worth fighting.
