Yellow

Its dark blue up there. More dark with a tinge of blue. There are greyish splotches, irregular, patchy, which have also taken on the bluish tinge of the backdrop. In some directions, it looks mostly bluish, and in other places mostly greyish-blue. There were small white shiny specks last night. Today, none are visible. A starless night. A set of lights is moving away from the horizon, perhaps at 30 degrees, yellow in front, yellow in back, three other lights visible- one flashing white under the yellow one in the back, one flashing red, above both and between the two yellow ones. There is a third one which is visible only when the white one in the back turns off and disappears when it turns on. It is followed by a sound, a roar that fluctuates in volume, but is consistently loud. It trails the lights at some distance. Now the blue light has separated from the other two, and moved to the left at some distance, the red is not visible. The plane has turned in this direction and is flying off to the right. Suddenly, like a flashlight beam, a long stretch in front of it, almost as long as the plane itself, is illuminated in a murky yellow light. It is flying through a cloud. Now it is gone. Sounds and lights.

A baby is crying somewhere in front. A metallic clank as some stainless steel dishes are set down to be washed somewhere in the distance. The prolonged hiss and abrupt stop as the pressure cooker weight abruptly falls and shuts off the escaping steam. Five seconds later, another hiss. Another abrupt stop. A shorter hiss this time. A car horn, more talk- some people chatting in a room somewhere off to the right. Dogs are barking at each other, a chorus is building. A motorcycle horn. A slamming door. This time it is one of those wooden framed doors with mosquito netting spread over a thin diamond shaped metal mesh, the frame of which which is held by a spring so that it slams shut when released.

Some silverware, sounds like a bunch of spoons and forks, being set down. The condensed series of clinks. A light has turned off. Some curtains are thin and shadows are visible in the rooms. A fluorescent light, a tube light, shines from behind a tree, patched shadows from the black leaves breaking up the white light. Someone laughs. There is the constant trrrrr of a night insect, the pulsating, higher pitched squeaking of crickets. Unbroken, and underlying everything. Almost ignored. A television throws out muffled sounds. A dog squeals painfully. The whirrrrrr of a motorcycle engine and the beep of a motorcycle horn, closer and to the right.

Another pressure cooker goes off far to the left. The dogs are barking aggressively now.

Looking up, a large patch of dark blue has opened up. Some specks have emerged. 11 dots of brightness. Stars, perhaps planets. Some twinkle. Stars. Some do not. Planets. That's what they taught in "Earth Science" in 10th grade.

The clouds looked immovable, but they are nearly all gone. Even in the night sky, clouds move.

A slight breeze now. Something is chirping. The insects sound louder now. The sound of an owl screeching as it flies by in a blur. It looked white. So perhaps something auspicious is to happen here.

About 30 stars now.

Grey

All the colors are darker now. The greens of the banana tree to my left, down below, in the distance, in someone elses yard, are darker. The leaves, torn perpendicular to the stem, which is standing straight up, bending down a little bit, light green in the middle. Bent like a bow, ready to shoot something into the sky, but without string. The tin roof, unpainted, corrugated, sloping downwards to the left, perhaps two storeys high at the lowest point, along a short workshop where they paint signs and prepare large prints on mounts of metal and wood. Samsung "Taalu ma aalu", from dashain. Bald guy, black sunglasses, goatee, orange shirt, black pants, front part of a black motorcycle in the background. Dangling keys from his right hand, level with his face, smiling. The black of the keychain matching the black of the glasses, contrasting with the white teeth and fair skin. All of this in a bright yellow circle. Taalu ma aalu. An LG electronics sign, perhaps twenty feet across, five feet wide. Red. Torn, just like the taalu ma aalu sign. Discarded. Bajaj, an upright blue rectangle, white letters, plastic sign, metal frame, no doubt fitted and filled with fluorescent lights and hung outside a dealership. The arching blue crescent of the chaudhury group logo is visible, just barely, in the dimming light.

Houses are quiet, like they are meditating. Brahmamuhurta it is called- the moment when night turns to day and when day turns to night. Exactly four lights are on, through all the windows that are visible. Another one has turned on. In the distance, a hill. Tall. The base of which has a famous temple of a god, sleeping on snakes, floating in water. The top of the hill is like an arrowhead, pointing to the sky. Behind it, somewhere obscured by the clouds, is Langtang. Gosaikunda.

Another light has turned on. Some children playing in the distance, the stray car horn, one every five seconds from various distances. Someone slams a door. Metallic door for sure, wooden framed with an iron sheet, so that when you close it it sounds like a sheet of metal falling. It is getting darker. Colors less distinct. Sounds emerging. A bird chirps, again.

A bell, those small ones used for puja. Constant ringing. Ding ding ding ding.....

The rhythmic woosh woosh and squeak of a person pumping a tube well...perhaps he has just returned from a long day at work and is washing up before his meal.

A dog barks. The sun has set. Sounds take over.