bhaskar saikia

In the vastness of night, where silence reigns supreme, I find myself awake—not to a world filled with brightness but to a void, an expanse of nothingness. The absence of light can be unsettling, yet within it, there’s a strange kind of peace.

Then, a sliver of light slips through a tiny gap, falling onto the floor like a solitary whisper breaking the silence. It’s nothing extraordinary, just a lone ray fighting its way through the dark. And yet, in its presence, the dust—once invisible and forgotten—erupts into motion, swirling, leaping, dancing to an unseen rhythm.

Is this the beauty of light? Or is it simply a repetition of madness—particles moving aimlessly, pretending to have meaning?

Perhaps both.

Life often feels the same way. We wake up each day, moving through routines, seeking purpose in moments that sometimes seem random. But maybe, just like the dust illuminated by light, it is the perspective that changes everything. What seems like chaos might just be a hidden dance we’ve never noticed before.

Maybe light isn’t just about brightness. Maybe it’s about revealing what was always there, waiting to be seen.