Power Cut.

In a dash of surprise and disappointment, the comforting clarity of lights is gone. The whirr of the fan overhead swoons to a slow silence.

I leave my desk and feel along the wall for the niche where I know the emergency light is. On the darkened wall, my hand unknowingly creeps into a soft glowing frame. The light drips along the wall onto the floor in front, a footstep away. In the patch of mute silver, the shadows of the grilles are on me, and the rest of me is moonlight. I stay for a moment.

Where is the moon?

The verandah. I walk to the verandah where the faint fingers of a breeze touch me. The moon is in a part of the sky I can see. The dark sky softens around it, and the darkness retreats to gather around the feeble stars. I stand in silence and the silver light from a faraway being.

The moon has a grey smear. I wonder who else is looking at the moon at this very moment. I wonder what they are thinking. Maybe they are praying for money, or imagining what love is like, or waiting for the power to return so they can watch TV. Yuva, Star Plus, 9 PM.

Moonlight crawls through the clouds to crouch in homes where nobody notices it, unless there is a power cut.

I watch the moon and the clouds, moving painstakingly from my right to my left. If Ma was here right now, she'd say it in terms of north and south. But I'm not sure which is which.

I am alone at home and Faraway is here with me for a while.

Then the TV beeps on and the fan whooshes awake and the lights glow steadily brighter, and I can't find the moonlight anymore.