[fragile] : 25/12/23

the sounds of my streets past midnight

i can hear the distant sound of a man singing in the distance. i cannot make out the words, it is 12:49 am. there is no music, just the melody of his voice piercing through the dead of the december night. i suddenly want to astral project out of my body and become a part of the air, travel to where he is and watch him sing among the streets. i do not feel real, but somehow i feel more real than i have in a while. my heart sinks in a pool of nostalgia for moments i have never lived to begin with.

it is 12:53 am, the cries of a baby make its way into the labyrinth inside my ear. i imagine a mother cradling her baby that was awaken by the nightly spirits of distress. soothing the hair. saying God’s name over and over again. trying to get the child to sleep again.

it is 12:55 am, there is a timber of a qawali. the dholak, harmonium, sarangi, tabla and the qawwal making a chain of thoughts that stand still, a reminder of being alive. of feeling things you cannot decipher or fathom.