At 12:30 in the night, I got bored of working in the office, so decided to take a small walk along the sea line here in Trieste. It took me around 20 lazy minutes to walk slowly downhill to reach the calm sea.
The skies were particularly clear, this being a small town with not much of light pollution even the smallest of stars were visible. The main competetor in the beauty contest was obviously the moon. Up in the skies, all of them tried to form various wordly shapes as they had been doing for a couple of millions of years now. Arranging themselves and then looking at their own image in satisfaction in the calm sea. If the waters were disturbed, they perhaps would had observed their images drawn perhaps by Picasso. The two artists were at major play, the sky and the sea. The human intervention were the beautiful green/blue lights at Piaza O'nita D'italia far awa across the sea. It only acted as an additive embelishment, merged in the natural beauty, still maintaining its artificial identity.
On the other side, the beaches near Trieste were so white that they were shining dimly in the moonlight. Somewhere nearby an old man played something on a violin. Violin it was, still wasn't slightly morose. A couple was walking hand in hand, very slowly, pressing against each other tenderly. Some others were relaxing at a nearby cafe by the beach while I walked past by all of them.
The beach as they call it in here, has a nice section of land accompanying it filled with tiny stones and marbles. In unconscious I was drifted towards it. When I reached there, marbles of different colours were inviting me. To get picked and be placed somewhere better than the idle sea coast. This is where I started picking them up. Small ones, nicely shaped, shiny, coloured. It was like choosing a bride at Shaadi.com, every variety was available, choose your best. But here, there was not restrictions on how many to pick up.
I picked some up, threw some in the sea, partially disturbing its job of painting the sky above in his water colours just like an impressionist artist. Though I tried my best to deform the natural beauty to my will and power, the painters were too powerful to be influenced by a young man. Sitting at the sea, with my feet getting wet periodically by the tiny wavelets the sea had to offer. I couldn't notice how the time passed by. I wasn't asleep for sure, I wasn't thinking of anything either. Time just passed by in trance.
When I finally got hold of my being, it was pretty late and I thought it would be better spending the night at office rather than at the sea. Saying my goodbye, I started climbing up the hill, from where one can see the whole of Trieste sea line in one panaromic view. Though the sea was calm, long away deep inside the moon appeared as a large triangular shape and was no more the exact replica of what it appeared in the sky. Even the stars had scratched upon the sea a line for their names.
Tomorrow morning, the stars would go for one day, the moon would go for one day, the sea will paint the sun and the clouds. In the daylight, the sea is a more creative creature. It also replicates the sky, and on the other side, it shows you images of the sea bed, the fish and the plants. On one side it's just a postcard, on the other side it's a dynamic movie screen.
While returning back, even the castle of Miramare was visible from the top. The castle with its 4 pillars going directly into the sea, borrowing light from moon to shine in its white colour was trying to get a good night sleep to wake up fresh in the morning for a new set of visitors.
But, though I write this, I actually spent the hours described above in my office room eating, downloading and watching pornographic movies, reading about deaths and accidents all over the world and oogling at females profiles in orkut. Strange that whatever I write would be believed to be true unless and untill it involves a bare lie or an impossibility. That is the power of a lie.
Actually, I didn't even do that, I just kept on coding, got bored and wrote all that above.