Middle aged nights

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2:41 AM, 10 Jan 2016

The night is ‘middle aged’.. .slipping into a comfortable peace and quietitude that’s missing in its  youth..

Our city nights…the occasional airplane flying past, distant whistle of a train passing, nightly trucks picking up speed they’re denied during the day, soulful music floating from afar…someone finding a lost love story on the radio or just the night guard  trying to keep himself awake..

These are vulnerable, these hours….
But it is an honest vulnerability. ..peaceful, naked, truthful like a child..

I don’t  like our ‘young nights’. Here in this concrete jungle, there’s  nothing like a young night. They’re just extended busy evenings…noisy, rushed, squeezed into hours before ‘sleep time’.
Busy hours trying to accomodate everything that was lost during the day’s rush to achieve whatever everyone’s out to achieve – every single day..!

I don’t  like the ‘old nights’ either.
They’re too close to dawn…too close to light and the fear of revelation.
Too close to the hours everyone pulls out their masks. …including me.

May be, finally, I’ve deciphered why I’m a 3 AM person!