The paths must loathe daytimes. Everyone walking on them is lost in the business of their days. No one cares to stop and appreciate nature or weed out the little plants struggling to grow in between the cement slabs. At least the scorching sun tries to wither the plants or dry the leaves that aimlessly fall on the paths. The wind even blows them away from the paths to the grass where they can decompose and continue the cycle of life. At least the sun and wind care during the day, just as humans do in the night
These paths; they have a second chance at life in the night, because humans appreciate them. On these paths, humans take time out to enjoy walks in the night. On these paths, they enjoy the refreshing breeze and the stillness of the night. They unwind, review their lives and decisions, brainstorm, you know, all those activities that help them re-energize and live better lives. On these paths, they tell the stories of their lives or sing their hearts out to anyone that cares to listen. They make those long phone calls to negotiate important deals or just catch up with friends and family. Or they pray, because they are sure that in all the quiet and stillness, He listens.
There are many souls taking a stroll on these paths in the dead of night without a care in the world. They walk in pairs, these souls; each pair lost in its world. Some pairs walk in silence, but unknown to the world are the deep conversations in their hearts. Their hearts speak a language only comprehendible to them and to their Maker, He who is responsible for their being on those paths at that time. They make occasional stops to gaze at the stars, or at the elderly white woman who is walking her dog. On such instances, they take a quick glance at each other and they both let out a smile when their eyes meet. Then they walk on, as if in unison, because their hearts have spoken and they know that it’s the right thing to do then.
In the silence, disputes are resolved and the strings of their hearts are pulled, bringing them closer and closer together. In the silence, friendships are made and others strengthened. Lifelong promises are made and sealed in that silence. A new language is borne; the language of the hearts. This language reigns in the silence; it kind of takes the day in the dead of night.
No one worries about the cold, either because they’re warm enough, or because one has already lent their coat to the other. In any case, the presence of each party shields the other against the cold of the night. The cold breeze blows with fury upon those taking lone strolls while keeping its distance from the couples; not even for a second threatening to bite. The wind seems to pass a message across to all lone walkers; that the world doesn’t belong to them. Or that it belongs to the tough, those who can stand tall even with the strong winds.
The quiet pairs are so because they have learned how to express themselves in silence. They know too that the beauty of the walks is in the company, not the words. Sometimes they can’t get themselves to stop speaking, because there’s still so much to say even when they think that all’s been said. Other times they can’t get themselves to talk; words fail them and all they can hope for is that their hearts are able to break through the walls of silence. Life is like that sometimes; there are times of plenty and times of lack.
The few other couples who speak do so in low tones and they would pass for any other quiet couple except for the occasional loud laughter that sells them out. The conversations make them lost in each other’s world. As he speaks of himself, he draws her further and further into his world. And she gladly returns the favour. It is no wonder their hearts get so entwined that with time their feelings are alike. They have similar perspectives on so many things and people even speak of their resemblance. Many though, are more interested in judging them; speaking of them and of what a happy/unhappy couple they are, or of how good they look together. People unknowingly seal the fates of these pairs, making a few premature friendships meet a dead end fast, while breaking the bonds that bound hearts so strongly.
“Let’s take a walk.” He proposes.
Her heart skips a beat and then resumes its task in a pace faster than usual.
“No, thank you.” She responds
“But it’s not you, or the walks. It’s these paths; that they aren’t what they were before. They now reek of broken promises and unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Castles build now shamelessly expose cracks and all other signs of collapse. These paths are evidence of time spent, now time lost. And a walk on these paths will be a walk down memory lane, filled with memories that I’m not ready to relive”
“Then we need to find new paths to walk on.”
“Sure, shall we?”