The world comes

The other evening, I decided to walk for longer. I'd reached the promenade earlier than usual. There was a slightly stronger buttery sunlight and more people thronged the walking track. By the time I was done with my usual rounds, the evening had set in properly. Twilight had floated away, dusk deepened and got spread like a tightly tucked bedspread. The moon and stars got placed in the vast heavens like dainty mints on pillows. Then I decided to walk a half hour more.

Since this is winter, the sun just seemed to drop off the sky at some point. It grew thick and dark. Blue melded with purple melded with black. That was the sky. That, in fact, was also the world. Since the street lamps at the promenade function erratically, one can't really count on them to be lit when the sun sets. They weren't lit then.

But the place looked mysterious and quite spectacular. Once my eyes got used to the darkness, I could make out shapes of different trees, outlines of park benches, the soft curl of the tip of a dog's tail, the silhouette of a jogger...many things. It was like looking at a Rorschach test and slowly watch a pattern emerge.

I think every morning when we wake up, the world gets created like this.There is a spilled splotch of great possibilities and life stares at it hard. Depending on what's really going on in its head, it sees a motif for its deepest, most hazardous sort of bizareness. 

Considering its genesis, of course the world is crazy. It makes more sense that way.

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