Creative Non-Fiction I Raginee Ballaree Gogoi
In the tranquil hours of the night, as the world settles into a gentle quiet, a unique opportunity presents itself. And it is nothing but the chance to confront the questions I often tiptoe around in the bright clamor of the day. The night becomes my confidante and it coaxes me to unravel the layers I wear in the harsh gaze of the sun.
In this nighttime-haven, I let my vulnerabilities lay bare, so that the questions that linger in the corners of my heart can find their voice and I can delve into the innermost core of my being. In the depth of the night, my mind, the most unaccountable of machinery, always humming, buzzing, soaring, roaring, diving and sometimes buried in mud, finds solace. As Virginia Woolf astutely questioned, “What’s this passion for?” The passion coursing through me remains elusive in its purpose, yet the night understands, offering refuge. It lets my soul dance naked, untouched by the harsh gaze of judgement. I transcend human limitations and cast off all the burdensome cloak of obligations. And the night becomes my haven, where the chaos of the day gives way to the peace of self discovery.
As the first light of dawn approaches, I carry these revelations of the night with me, a subtle yet profound change etched into the fabric of my existence. The beauty lies not only in the stillness but in the honesty that emerges when the world is draped in shadows. In the sanctuary of the night, I find not only answers but a deeper connection to the beauty of my higher self.
In the embrace of the night, where the whispers of our true selves are heard, we uncover the beauty of vulnerability and the profound dance of self-discovery. As the dawn graces us with its gentle light, let us remember that “The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4 am knows all my secrets.” – Poppy Z. Brite.
May our revelations under the stars illuminate the path to the innermost core of our being.