A Story...

The sleepless night looked on as the stars of its womb peeped over the clouds. Some of them were bright as bright, while others not so dull. They will stay forever my babies thought the sleepless night. How long? He didn’t know.

One night as he was sleeplessing around he thought, ‘what is it that I can do so that the sun never comes up?’ Ah! He got the answer almost immediately, he was a clever one. ‘I must remove all the impermanent things in this world, so that the sun never has to rise again to nourish these poor fickle and never-long-enough souls’. He thought what a world it would be with sleepless darkness everywhere. Never again would he hear anyone sing, “here comes the sun too doo doo doo”. He won’t have to hide again ever. As he felt all this, his heart bloomed with joy.

So started his journey to the dark side, where there is never any light. ‘Where is it?’ he would think to himself. But the answers never came. ‘I know who I can ask’. So swoops down and the chain tied to his leg rattles into the night. To the ground he asked, solid forever ground. The ground with all its dust and stones. “Where is the dark side? Is it below you?” The ground wondered and then said, “it is not below me, but perhaps it is in the blood that runs through the creatures with the ability to shake me. And laugh as they watch blood spread on me as a carpet and then seep into my cracks. “No No No” said the sleepless night. “it cannot be that for when they sleep, the same blood is at utter peace.” And thus saying he goes away disappointed to find that who he considered to be all knowing and eternal did not know where it is, the dark side.

So he thought and went on to see the wisest one of all, the wind. The wind rattled the window panes of a broken house and zigzagged around its favourite trees. It had heard the sleepless night coming towards him. “what is the sleepless night doing on such a black moon?” whooshes the wind. “I have come to find the dark side, do you know where it is?” “hmm…” says the wind, “hmm, I think it is in the hands of those mortal souls who shut me out at night instead of feeling me. But sit inside while they make their fantacies run wild with their mortal syrups”. “No No No” says the sleepless, “it cannot be that. Because those very hands also caress a baby’s round head. Disappointed once again, the sleepless night moves on. He feels a pull at his chain as the world keeps turning. Soon he will have to hide till the sun goes down once more.