The Blues of Midnight.

I have become an insomniac for the past one and a half years. Reasons may be different, but the truth is sleep eludes me till 3AM or 4AM at times. All Indian Standard Timing. A few days back, I was standing in my little roadside facing balcony, trying to look over the sleeping souls on the streets, the ones whose daily living is from the roadside tea stall to the pulling the hand carts in the day time through the bustling streets of Taltala, Calcutta, India. Now it was so silent. The occasional flights taken by the crows who seemed perplexed with the sight of me, a great fat mass standing in the balcony! (Come On! Its time to sleep and for Us to pee... ), that is what they might have been crowing at me!
I had a different thought in my mind. I wanted to observe the night sky. It was crystal clear... ironic.. with twinkling stars and the Moon was clearly visible. It was a whole white disk, blazing in her own rightful glow... cold. Many beggars look up at it trying to eat it, thinking it to be a burnt chappati...only if they could..they would have. But in that moon light, with some of the street lights off service due to a underground cable snag, I viewed a soft gleam of an event, for which only night can show!
Three ragamuffins, wearing torn clothes... complete tatterdemalions in true defination, tore over the left overs of the night that a nearby restruant had for them. I never saw them before, even in the faintest of the moonlight and the partial shadows created by the high rises (where many children and their parents lay asleep with their stomach filled), I could see their faces. Their sclera glowed white, prominent from their dirt laden eyelines...
Felt like calling on them... but I know they would run away... and soon they did..after they had soem guests at their table... the street dogs came to the party, only to displace the three..for they were five bullies...
The moon was cold... same like the brown and burnt chappati, may in the poor rag's imagination, only if they could imagine amidst the atrocities of life.