Musings of Missing the Magic

With a feeling of euphoria and in an expansive mood we came out of the Air Conditioned Noida Golf Course Pub, after an enjoyable evening of dinner drinks and entered a different world: a full moon in the sky, the emerald green, greens and the freeways bathed pale, a pleasant mildly cool breeze caressing us and lingered for a while, we had a meet to welcome Maliks, common friends, on a short visit from USA, still talking of past with feelings dipped in nostalgia.

Earlier with the tables cleared, the Kulfies and Gulab-jamuns, slowly savoured, we had lingered at the table and later we had lingered at the car park, hands extended, with the feeling of bonhomie, but reluctant to bid goodbye, unconsciously, trying to hold on to the magic of the evening as long as possible.

Combine of the moon and the cool breeze, unusual for this time in the world of Noida, brought back the magical memories of the legendary Malwa nights: the vast landscape lit by the full moon in the sky, stretching far towards the Bercaha lake; back in time in Mhow and in the company of my late wife. Also evocative of similar night of Dawars at Tezpur, the airfield area, spread as far as eyes could see, suffused with the pale-white moon-light, the tall reed like grass swaying in the mild breeze with the white plumes shining silver reflected by the full moon, high in the sky on a winter night was an ethereal light. The sight, the peace and quiet of those special nights provided, though a sheer magic, no compensation for all the pain of separation from the family some 2000 Km away in Dehradun.

I came home, parked the car, changed and came down to the park below. It was now past twelve in the night, the moon, and now high in the sky, was still bright, the breeze also blowing and the park suffused with the same evocative pale-white moon-light, alas, the magic that I had come down in search of was missing and so was the company and the companion.
Brig Lakshman Singh (Retd)