Once again after long time I am staring at the sky. I have established amity with the sky. I stare at the sky, and so does the sky at me without any hesitation. I can stare as long as I want without being worried that it would develop affection towards me, which would have been the case if would have been staring at some young girl. The sky is the bastion of my stares, where I won't be called "uncivilized", just because I am staring at something for long time, where I won't be retreated because of my "mean" glances at something beautiful. So, no wonder, I have to enjoy the "freedom" to stare which would rarely be available even if I was walking among the diverse bodies in Washington DC.
It is not a "hot" sky, the sky illuminated by the giant fire ball with light rays traveling at the speed of approximately 3*10^8 m/s. Nor were the images of hot girls wearing bikini being telecasted on the sky. If it was very bright day with sunny sky, I would have said of the sky as beaming under it's diaphanous blue veil, and as shy as new Indian bride (of course, traditional one) who wants to be veiled from the mass of ceremony attendees, but it was not the case either. Looking far into the horizon, I would have loved to see the sun battling eagerly to hide itself among the mountains, anxiously (although with slow pace), crawling downward like a baby, bored of babbling whole day and without anybody actually getting the phrases in disarray coming out of his mouth, and finally crawling on the floor with extremity in vulnerability of falling asleep anytime soon. The sun would have been pulling down itself, and I would have been eagerly running towards the hills, among the woods, may be bicycling with all of my effort, among the woods just to catch the last glimpse of the "crawling" Sun. I would have inhaled the comfortable zephyr, would have dreamt of giving company to those birds flying into the horizon, and would have had "foolish" enthusiasm of flying deep into the giant fire ball. I would have definitely loved to "explore" the new world in the fire ball, would have lead those innocent birds to death and of course would have scorched myself to death me as well. Those feelings would have fomented an overthrow of my materialistic life, and would have proved myself "deserted". This is when the significance of word "but" comes into play. Yes, indeed, that was not the case either.
The sky is cold. One might imagine of The Himalayan Range being reflected all over the sky when I say the sky is cold. Or may be of the winter waves roaming around to hit hard those beautiful faces, and stylized hairs letting them fly, of course with restrictions though because they still have to stick in those round heads. The possibility of one imagining North faces, Crocodiles, Chaqueta, Moncler, or other Jackets cannot be ignored either. However it will only prove either temperature has gone down or there is piled snow around. I would definitely think of those shivering naked trees without any outfits on them as well. But the sky is cold. Neither because of the low temperature nor because of the piled snow. The sky is lacking something of great importance. The light of freshness, the light of temptation which would have instigated waves of energy burning all of my calories (although I lack enough calories in my thin body), Instead it has pushed me into a deep state of torpor.
Photo Credit: http://lntro-o.deviantart.com/
