Roshni

 

Roshni

Roshni does not ask permission.
It does not knock.
It finds the smallest crack
and floods the whole room
before you have decided
whether you are ready.

This is what hope does, too
It does not wait for your darkness to end.
It enters anyway.
Uninvited, unashamed, 
the most honest guest you'll ever have.

The power had gone out at 3am. She had found her way to the window by memory, fifteen steps, then right. Outside, the street was dark except for one lamp still burning at the corner.

That single roshni, that one stubborn light in all that dark, was enough to see by. Enough to make the rom feel less like the end of something.

She stood at the window until the power came back. But she kept thinking about that lamp. How did it not know it was the only one? How it just kept being light. 

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