Two secrets of a dark night.

Past midnight, no moonlight.

I’m standing at my window in Kalpa, looking at the expansive dark of the night.

There is no way of knowing where the mountain upon which I’m standing ends, where the valley with the flowing Sutlej begins, and where the Kinnaur Kailash mountains stand on the other side. All of it exists as one into the darkness, all of it is as unknown as the night. Exists but not known, exists in obscure secrecy.

Suddenly, I see distant headlights of a car curling towards the village, and realize the night is too black.
Suddenly, I remember there is a road etched all over this mountain, all over the dark night.

August 29, 2022