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A prayer for no one

December 13, 2010

It is six in the morning. I can’t fall asleep. Still. What’s the point now in even trying? Soon the world will stir and wake up to its hundred noises. If you are alive, prove it. Make a sound. I mumble a few lines from the song ‘streets of love’. This song has hijacked my brain.

I hear the clock tick. And a dog barks faraway. And a few snatches of conversation in a language I don’t understand come wafting through my window. Some inexplicable laughter filters in too. Am I imagining things? Who knows? 

In the next few minutes, light appears. Is this what they call dawn? No birds chirp. Two religions beckon their gods. No temples or mosques near my house. I wonder if silence acts as the medium of sound sometimes and carries it far and away… like how imperative it is to keep on dying to keep yourself alive. In a metaphorical sense. Philosophy! I wonder what the big deal is it with Nietzsche? Yesterday night I was watching a movie (a fish called Wanda) and his name came up quite a few times. I shall look it up the first thing at work.

I suddenly realize I haven’t prayed in weeks. I snuggle in my quilt, join hands, and shut my eyes. I think hard if anyone I know needs my prayers. I fall asleep.

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