bhaskar saikia

There are moments in life when we find ourselves in complete darkness—not just the absence of light, but a deeper, more unsettling void. It is in these moments that we search, even unconsciously, for the smallest sliver of brightness. A ray of hope. A sign that something beyond this emptiness exists.

But what happens when that light finally arrives?

A single dot of light enters the dark chamber, hesitant yet persistent. Dust particles—once invisible—suddenly come alive, swirling in chaotic motion. The silence is disturbed and what was once still is now teeming with movement.

Is this the beauty of illumination? Or is it simply the exposure of chaos?

We often think of light as a symbol of hope, of clarity, of truth. But sometimes, when it pierces through the void, it doesn’t necessarily reveal comfort—it reveals disorder. It makes us see the things we had forgotten, the unsettled dust of our thoughts and memories, the fragments of a reality we were avoiding.

Perhaps, then, light is not always a savior. Perhaps it is merely an instigator, shaking things up, forcing us to confront what we had chosen to ignore. In the dance of dust, we see not only the beauty of existence but also the randomness, the absurdity, the relentless motion of a world we do not fully understand.

And so, we are left with the question: Do we embrace this light, knowing it may only reveal more chaos? Or do we retreat into darkness, where the unknown feels strangely safe?

Maybe, just maybe, there is no right answer—only the choice of whether to keep searching or to simply watch the dust dance.