It has been a hectic week. You’ve been so busy, worked so hard and feel that you deserve a break. Upon reaching home on a Saturday night, overwhelmed with fatigue and insomnia, you start to think that you've practically turned into a diabolical zombie. Except that it’s others feeding on your brain.
All you want is to take some time off; remove those ill-fitting formal boots and put on a pair of socks; tie up your hair, disconnect from the rest of the world, sit at the parapet of your balcony and muse at the view of the city lights. It’s all just missing one thing: that refreshing cup of coffee.
So you make yourself some hot coffee, assuring yourself that that’s the last bit of ‘work’ you’ll be doing that day. Clutching your favourite forest-brown mug, you make place for yourself at the window pane you haven’t approached in ages. The dreamy city view encapsulates you as you relish each sip, of both. The sky is pitch-dark, in complete contrast with the breathtaking lights, in and out of focus, constantly switching sides, merging into one another. The overall effect is that of the rays of sun incident upon a golden palace, at the twelve strikes of noon. You also can’t help but marvel at the beautiful illuminated bridge at a distance, the view of the sky-line, from which, you remember from the last time you crossed it, is like honey drops strewn across a hive.
And then it gets you thinking, that if you hadn’t decided to take the night off, you’d be at a social event at that precise moment, and would have missed the magical experience of the patterns that light rays form, when looked at through the steam emerging out of your coffee mug.
