The Gleam that guides us

The night sky looked as dark as the deepest of oceans, with flashing and shimmering stars dispersed like the heavenly pixie dust in the atmosphere. A young man sauntered through the deserted road, now and again drawing his expensive leather jacket tighter to shield his body from the chilly wind. Except for the periodic bark of the dog, and the shriek of the owl, the whole area was as quiet as a mouse.

The young man lifted his gaze to meet the sky, but returned back disheartened when it failed to see the polar-white sphere hanging in the dark night. He let out a long, deep breath of disappointment, but continued to walk nonetheless. Perhaps the moon could have provided an ounce of hope to his despaired soul, or even better, become a faithful companion in his tiringly long journey.

Well, his idiot friends weren't enough to hunt her down were they, and a little help from the faithful companion moon won't hurt. In this exhausting journey of life, the moon had been a stationary support for him, and he had a feeling, that the milky white sphere had something to do with sending his Nanu, Munna and Pandit to his life, and he couldn't be more grateful to him. As he inhaled the loneliness around him, his heart heavied with the feeling of helplessness yet again, for his patience was exhausted, even though he was still filled with expectation or maybe, hope.

His chain of thoughts was interrupted, when he accidently stepped in a puddle of water. Though his leather boots had successfully barricaded the flow of water into his feet, the distinct splash of water still reached his ears. He stared at the shimmery white liquid in the pothole with rapt attention, which was full of ripples now, thanks to him. The liquid however, still showed his distorted reflection, and his eyes drank in the sight of the familiar features of his face and the tiny fading scar on his forehead. The scar was a proud reminder of the painful two months that Sameer Maheshwari had spent in the hospital, and though it didn't inflict any sort of physical pain now, it was nothing but a painful reminder of his fortunate recovery and her memories.

He forcefully lifted his gaze from the water and focused it on the surrounding scenery instead, which his eyes have become accustomed to seeing almost everyday. On one side of the road was a row of the majestic pine trees, on the other side Nainital's famous Sal trees, a very pleasing sight altogether. The winds were much more colder now, and the night more dark, with a citrus odour filling up his nostrils. As he walked a few steps further, the metallic road finally ended and he was greeted with the sight of an old and worn out wooden board with barely visible letters "View Point",standing proudly on emerald green grass.

Though he loved everything about being in Nainital, he had a soft spot for it's peaceful atmosphere and the climate around it. Most of all, the scenic view of the famous "View Point" of Nainital, accompanied by the thick greenery-filled looks of the surrounding mountains, gave him the rare feeling of tranquility, which was the only thing he needed right then.

His boots soon met the wet green grass instead of the metallic road they had become accustomed to, but he kept moving forward, occasionally taking support of the bark of the tall trees to avoid stumbling due to the slippery soil beneath him. After a silent struggle of fifteen minutes, he finally reached the hilltop and a satisfactory smirk adored his handsome features. He breathed in the familiar scent of the Mimosa plants and felt himself getting intoxicated yet again.

Out of pure reflex, he then sauntered off towards the lone large chunk of rock, and kneeled down, only to see fading and unclear letters "Sameer Munna Pandit" written with a piece of blood-red limestone. He gently traced those letters with his fingers, as if trying to get them to talk, but nothing of that sort happened. Yes he was angry with Munna and Pandit, but that didn't mean that he wasn't missing him. How can a person live without his heartbeats? His friends were definitely his heartbeats, his lifeline, his everything. This place had been their favourite, and it had witnessed every first in their life, be it their first cigarette, first sip of the forbidden liquid, or the first admittance of crush if one considers Munna's case. Sameer chuckled a bit, remembering the flushed face of his friend when he confessed about liking Swati. Though their families had happily dumped them in Nainital, they still had each other and this was enough for him. He couldn't ask for more.