The nightlife

The sun might forget to shine, the rain might deny falling but the day religiously makes its way to the night. The sun gets enveloped by the apparent horizon. Like hues on a palette unite together and let the dusk, a thief, steal everything. It then paints the sky selfishly. The reptile darkness comes out of the underbrush like a silent snake.

With its poisonous bite, the earth gets without colour. And there they come out, the countless stars, hanging like a poem against the black board. The world gets somewhat lit by the rich light of star dust. 

And it becomes the time for the hungry insects to flush out from their hideouts. They creep in search of food. They crawl out blindly in a crowd of thousands like them. They meet each other. Sometimes it’s in the form of bright, flashy colors; sometimes it’s in the form of mimicry—looking or acting like dangerous insect. They don’t know each other but they know their common intention. They curiously feed on one another. 

The night gets deeper, without the color, without the sound. In the silent darkness two hungry insects eat each other's spit. They happen to exchange thoughts, desires, blood, sweat, saliva and lust. Two hungry insects survive the night by eating each other's appetite.

With the dawn twilight the envelop opens once again. The colors, the sounds come back to life bit by bit. The insects then once more clothe into human beings.