While this limousine bus takes me to Shibuya, my hands
are holding on to the book that I was reading minutes ago. I am wondering
whether I should pull out a notebook to scribble! My fingers
sometimes just itch, itch to document the moment, the feeling. I am laying my
eyes over this dark night and trying to see as far as my gaze can reach through
this big glass window. At times I am only able to see my own reflection and the
guy sitting next to me. I try to brush off these reflections and keep finding out what’s
on the other side of the window.
For once, this city looks quiet and peaceful. Someone
landing here for the first time won’t even imagine that it’s only a few hours
away from the peak hour madness. The mornings in Tokyo are very typically
(overly) metro-city mornings. Black suits holding the bodies and white masks
gripping tight on the faces.
Black and white corporate crowd rushing through an extremely entangled network
of subways and bullet trains with a focused march towards their work places.
Yes, I repeat “focused March”, as if the only target at 8 am is to reach office
without any distraction, like talking or smiling. That is how I will define a
pure Jap, focused, meticulous and detailed in the minutest thing he or she does.
But “now” is different, its silent, steady, quiet, deep. I
smile, my reflection smiles back at me but I am distracted by the lit up Tokyo.
The lit up skyline with all these skyscrapers and lit up sky with the
not-so-round-moon. The full moon stopped by just a few days ago, today it looks
more like an ice-cream that you have just started to dig in. As the bus moves, it
keeps giving different impressions of the same moon. The ice cream has rapidly
turned into a head that is peaking from behind a black door, if it had eyes I
could have claimed that they are looking at me from miles away.
From flying so close to the clouds I am sitting in this bus
to look at the same clouds again. They look equally beautiful but very different
from above and below. I cannot choose which one I like the most but what I
would like to believe is that there is some connection between us. Either they
follow me wherever I go or I don’t let them ditch me. Looking more through them
I realize that this sky is the only constant thing that looks original from any
part of the world. The round piece that is part of the universe on which I am
standing is either artificial or a bit contaminated with its human-version. But
the sky, keeps it the same every night, holding on to the companions, partying
in its own way with an ever-moonlit venue and star decorations :)
Goodnight sky and goodnight Tokyo!
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