Today we finished our posters, charts, tables, typing – basically everything that was left for us to finally contribute to the organization. I had been keeping largely on task throughout my work, so I didn't have too much left to do. There was lots of colouring involved. I don't believe that I've ever coloured so much in my life, not even during my childhood. I was never particularly fond of the activity, since more effort went into 'staying in the lines' instead of the broad, vast pencil strokes within the figure. One of our coloured pencils, the one representing Jah land, is nothing but a nub now, nothing but a remnant of what it used to be.
At night Balramji was roasting corn at the back of the office. We joined him and plucked crunchy kernels off the cob. The semi-burnt ones were the best. The smoke from the roasting also functioned as a mosquito repellent. I then went to the roof to get some fresh air. That was a mind-boggling experience in itself.
The sky was extremely clear and the moon, though only half-lit, shone extra bright. It has not rained for a few days now, so there was not any cloud cover. The stars were clear, twinkling, and an occasional streak of white would sweep across the dark blue expanse above. Fireflies emitted a neon fluorescent green, becoming invisible and then lighting up in different locations. It was serene. The echoes of the circus soundtrack were no longer audible. No horns. No people. Just beautiful, calm, quiet. I lay on my back, watching the universe above me. My insignificance in the scheme of the unknown grew as a reality, and I felt grateful to exist at all. Later that night, we all slept on the veranda in our sleeping bags. The mosquitoes did not bother me. The veranda lacked the stifling heat of the rooms. Just cool, fresh, clean air. I slept peacefully that night.