Night Walker

As I step out of my building and on to the driveway of my complex, a cold winter chill is there to greet me. A little strange for it to be February and there’s still a nip in the air. Cuddle weather, I call it, but there’s no one to cuddle up with, except there’s no one to cuddle to, except for Max, my cuddle pillow.

I continue to walk along, a night Walker, not the GoT kind. I pass a couple on a clandestine night out, trying to make most of the darkness and scarcity of people on the street, or people just hurrying after calling it a night. I try to move my gaze as their lips meet, trying not to be a voyeur of sorts to their passion play.

As I continue the air smells high as I pass by a group high on grass and liquor. They lift their heads and stare my way, their eyes glazed and blurry. I wonder what would I look like in their dazed psychedelic world? Would I be a stranger in monochrome, or would I be blob of colours in their high world.

Dogs stare me down as I pass their my way, wondering if they scare me or should I be scared by them? Isn’t that one and the same? Maybe a whiff of the air has scrambled my brains? Who’s to tell? Getting high on secondhand smoke. I pass them, going around them as they continue to give me the stare down, some starting to wag their tail in recognition. But they don’t make any move towards me and let me pass them.

And so I continue my walk. There are kids hanging around trying to be cool, taking videos as they ride bikes, smoking cigarettes, trying to be the cool kids who are permitted to hang around late in to the night. A glance at them makes you feel old.

There a people walking their pets, or is the pets walking their people? Something we may never ever know! They are holding canes in their hand to keep those pesky strays at bay. But then there are some for whom these pets are their wingman. Very often, once the job is done these poor critters are forgotten and are left to fend themselves.

And as you walk down I see a poster that leaves you with an indifferent feeling, that leaves you fuming at the irony at human. In a year where people have lost their jobs, homes, loved ones, we want funds to build a monuments to the Gods. Isn’t it ironic that we want to put roof over the head of God many of fellow human don’t have one over their head. When will we learn that the gods, whichever name we call them,has long since shunned these opulently vulgar display of devotion. They shunned these for humbler abode, like the hearts and homes of the humble.

This poster seemed to evoke a bitter feeling in me. And as I continued to walk through the night, my mind seemed to be lost in thoughts, a bit disturbed, a bit distracted, a bit distant from all the happenings around, wondering if life would come out unscathed, with all the craziness happening around.

As I walked, Lucky Ali crooned in my ears, trying to calm a lost person who walked aimlessly that night, a reflection of the way life felt. Being so lost in thought I didn’t quite realise where I was going. But my legs, on autopilot  brought me back, to the enterance of the building this bringing an end to a night walk of this nightwalker!!!