Rambling thoughts at midnight.
Inconsequential and perpetual pondering under
blessed stars- opprobrious yet well-nigh productive.
These ramblings of a teenager’s mind have protean pretexts
and such a definite uncertainty- so as much as to envisage
and dwell upon nothingness for hours together.
What-not have I wondered about around the midnight hour!
When dimness can be this enlightening and
where silences can whisper thoughts.
When the night is serene and the moon is atop.
When philosophy turns as the modus operandi
for the matter in grey;
thoughts turn into an auroral splendour until
the next bloody day.
Saying along what one would wonder- wouldn’t that be interesting?
Think about the burble, one with an eccentric charm.
To find the one, as there can’t be no more who’d rather sleep
than ramble at the bewitching hour,
one needs to search for years and years, maybe a chiliad.
Obnoxious, pretentious, undesirable and perhaps lethal
but a necessity, yes, that’s right.
An innocuous suggestion to those who still doubt-
perhaps you could give it a thought at midnight!
-Hariharan Sriram (The Skookum).
The Skookum 