The bus in which i was travelling passed through Nrupatunga Road. I was eager to reach home. B ought to have come to aunt's place today. It seemed ages since i saw her. I sat by the window, watching the buildings go by me, slowly.
A small fire was roaring, in one of the compounds. Perhaps, people were burning garbage. I sat, waiting for the obnoxious smell to hit me. Fortunately, there was no sign of smoke at all. Fire was burning at two different sites. Flames rising to different heights, at a small distance from each other.
At that instant, fire appeared beautiful to me. Something that is pure and divine. Various shades of orange, red, yellow.... synchronising into perfection. Flames aiming for greater heights. Leaving behind a mirage. That which creates an illusion with trees, plants, buildings.... dancing with flames. As the edges of flames so distinct, yet so invisible.
Characterising the sun as a ball of fire. A life-supporting entity. An immeasurable thing that makes us depend on it through time and again. Harsh and yet so, mild; fierce and yet so, soft. Devours fuel, in turn produces brightness. Accompanied by characteristic smells, which depends on the kind of fuel that it is fed with.
Striking matchsticks against the sulphur-strip, watching fire appear from nowhere. In turn lighting the surroundings. Lamps lit, the warmth of the fire on my closed eyes, on my arms..... Untill the heat becomes painful. Acrid smoke, brings me to reality, where upon i realise that the hair on my skin is scorched.
At times, lights which work on electricity fades into oblivion in front of a live, raging fire. The dusky spread of brightness, particles of dust moving at random. A diffusion of light and darkness. Each of which begins and ends at seemingly masked regions.
Fire is enchanting!