Firefly lost in the cold desert of Spiti.
21:01 at night, September 25. Dhankar village.
The whole village is dark (no power) except for four to five random lights running on diesel generators. From the top window of my room facing the whole village, I see someone, maybe a man, walking in the direction facing me, going back to his home in the village. He is carrying an old mobile phone — perhaps a Nokia from the last century — that does not have a flashlight. So the man has kept the phone screen on to light the way.
The tiny display of the little Nokia
gleaming a soft glow.
A white firefly.
Lost, without knowing,
in the desert mountains of Spiti.
One way or another, I end up bumping into fireflies wherever I go. My life’s path is scattered with coincidences that are sometimes a lovely person, sometimes fireflies.