The curfew on Dhal Lake (Marcella Boccia)

The curfew came like a shroud
quiet and heavy
laying itself over the lake
like a veil of silence
dimming the world outside
and keeping me within the narrow walls
of my houseboat
anchored to the water
anchored to a time
when the horizon seemed far
and yet was always too close
The lake usually so full of life
was empty in those hours
the shikaras stayed docked
the vendors quiet
and the sound of voices
was swallowed by the stillness
I would sit by the window
watching the soft ripples
of the water catching the fading light
the boat rocking gently
like the pulse of a living thing
Outside the blue kingfishers would dart
like flashes of fire against the green
their tiny bodies cutting through the air
as they skimmed the surface of the lake
in search of fish
their wings slicing the wind
with effortless grace
They were free
untouched by the weight
of the world beyond the water
and I envied them Above the eagles soared
their massive wings spread wide
against the sky
gliding with the ease of creatures
that knew the meaning of freedom
I watched them from the window
my eyes tracing their flight
as they circled above the mountains
soaring higher and higher
as if they too
had no care for the curfew
that held me prisoner in my own home
In those moments
when the world outside seemed to sleep
I found solace in the small things
the way the kingfishers perched
on the branches that reached over the water
the way the eagles would disappear
into the distant peaks
and then return like shadows
a reminder that the world still spun
even when it felt as though it had stopped
The curfew might have kept me locked inside
but the beauty of Dhal Lake
and its creatures
kept me alive in ways
that words could not capture
For in the stillness
when the world outside was muffled
I found the freedom
of watching the wings of a kingfisher
or the flight of an eagle
freedom that lived
even when the world around me was bound