Aria, in all her youthful confusion and ever vaporizing vigor, opened the door to her apartment, hung the keys on the key holder beside the door and reached for the switchboard without much thought and presence at the moment. And almost instantly let out a groan when she realized it was one of those 7:00 pm, two hours long power cut again. The past two years had been tumultuous for her, with these third world problems dragging her downs below bearable limit at times.

            Stumbling on all the objects whose existence and utility got forgotten from time to time and eventually found their way to the floor, she made her way across the room to her study table and reached for the emergency light.

     “Oh come on! I couldn’t have forgotten to charge it.”

She pulled out the chair and sat down on it with a thump and suddenly she felt like a big failure. The burnt milk in the drowsy mornings to her cliffhanging increment, the emergency light that ran out of charge to her never progressing research, all her small and big failures danced in her mind, mocking her. And she, like the intimidated high schooler who gets bullied everyday, succumbed to her self doubts and the burning frustration within her found its way to the three dimensional reality through her steaming tears; she broke down.

             Over the two years, she had become the epitome of vagueness and disappointment of the city life that hides where the disco balls and party lights cast their shadows and come crawling out at the absence of light. And at times, like this moment, when that realization dawned upon her, she soothed her bruised pride and aspirations by letting it all out.

               But as was customary, Aria straightened herself up, patted her disheveled hair down and said aloud along with a sigh, ”It’s all good. Everything is fine. I’m fine.” 

               She hadn’t noticed the moonbeams until now, that pried in through the slits in the curtains and poured themselves into the otherwise dark room. She had been an ardent fan of the moon and the stars and the thought of them together in the moonlight but like most parts of her former self, this too had been packed up and stacked away in some distant corner.

                Aria felt a sudden dire need for coffee. So she brewed herself some overtly strong coffee, carried the mug to the balcony and grabbed a stole on the way. It was one of those moonlit nights when the brilliance of the moonlight forced the stars to shy away. Beyond her lay the vastness of the city, embellished with the bright city lights, of which she was an insignificant speck; Mumbai was a beautiful city to most people. Personally she never liked the resilience and perennity of the city; for her vulnerability always felt like a dash of liveliness that made anything a little more alive. Far in her native land of jungles and simplicity, people were probably praying to the heavens for the health of their crops in lamp lit fields while the naive youths would be dreaming of the city lights. But she had seen it all and so she knew better.

                 Even though drowned in her thoughts, Aria hadn’t failed to notice the faint stirring on the balcony adjacent to hers. But all thanks to childhood terrors, she didn’t dare to look in that direction until a purely human voice called out, “The city lights don’t stand a chance against the moonlight, don’t you think?” Aria had never forgotten how gravely her parents advised her not to talk to strangers as a child, but the moon made her do it. “Yes, absolutely.” she said. And when she finally managed to look in the direction of the voice, she could make out a man’s silhouette and judging from his vibes, he seemed to her to be in his late thirties; the rest was left for her imagination to play with.

                 “Do you fancy watching the night sky often?’ he asked.

                  “Not as much as I used to.” she replied. “I don’t have the time anymore.”

                    “So what is it that you do that has been keeping you away from the sky?”

                      Aria smiled at his way of asking the question but only for the moon to see. “I’m a scientist, well almost. What about you?”

                      “I’m a musician at the church down the road, who’s swiftly going out of date.” And to this he chuckled but Aria could sense more distress than amusement in it. “Do you fancy music?”

                      “Oh yes I do. I’m a complete indiehead. So how did you start out as a musician?”

                      “I started out as a young lover, oh yes, that’s the way I started off.” And he laughed without waiting to see if Aria laughed along.

                        Aria loved the rustic country vibes in his speech. “So there was a heart break?”

                         “Oh no no. There was only love and my beautiful wife. I married young, you see, young and madly in love, much unlike these days. I would write songs for her, my beautiful wife and she would smile and look forward to more. Never could guess she was hiding that dreadful disease behind that smile that I fell for everyday, a little more.”

                  After a brisk moment of silence, he continued in that same cheerful country tone, “Do you have a love story?”

                   Aria hesitated for a moment and took two deep breaths, “I don’t seem to be enough for the ones I fall in love with.” And with the words that left her mouth, her insecurities that she had been pressing down for so long sprung out like blood hounds and all of a sudden, she was fighting tears in the company of a complete stranger.

                    “Hush now, you seem like a fine lass to me. You just wait till someone sees your worth.”

                      She smiled halfway through a sniffle, but definitely felt better. 

                      “Would you care to hear some of my music?” he said turning towards her in the moonlight. Aria could almost see his eyes glistening at the prospect just like a child’s at the first mention of candy.

                       “Yes, I’d love to.”

                       The man disappeared for a few minutes while Aria reconciled with the moon. Below her, the city lights remained unfailingly the same just as they were two hours ago or probably a lifetime back, but deep within her something had changed; she was definitely a little happier and a little more hopeful because someone thought she was worthy of being loved. She smiled to herself at the silliness and magic of it all, at how a complete stranger could do so much at the swish and flick of a few words but only for the moon to see.

                      The man reappeared with what Aria guessed to be a ukulele in the moonlight. He sat down on the chair and started with his song without any further notice.

                      “...Sing with me to the tune of oldies, I’m waiting

                          My darkened home feels alive again…

                       ….Oh couldn’t Christmas last a little longer?”

                        The blues and blushes, the phone calls that lasted until dawn and distant feelings of being loved and cared for came flooding back to her. The country feel oozing from his rugged, sun-tanned voice took her back to those starry bonfire nights that she had spent dancing to native songs with people who shared her tribe and naivety; her mind was recollecting old happy moments frozen in time, moments that were stored away with an oath of never revisiting them again. But this strange wizard with an elixir for a voice was casting strange spells on her. Aria narrowed her eyes and fixed her piercing glance at this wizard, half-hurt and half-ecstatic but all she could see at the mercy of the moonlight was a musician in love with his music and even more with his muse. 

                       “But you’re all that I need under the mistletoe

                         Oh don’t shy away today!

                         ...Oh couldn’t Christmas last longer?”

                      The short silence that followed was engulfed by apparently beautiful memories but thorned by the sadness shadowing reminiscences that were carefully handpicked by two minds; the 10:00 pm air around the two balconies was a sea of thoughts and memories. Reality raced back when Aria could feel him smiling at her as he gradually broke the silence.

                       “I wrote this song for her but she couldn’t stick around long enough and I never dared to breathe life into it. I never sang it until today.”

                        “It’s beautiful. She would have loved it.” Aria reassured him with the warmest smile she knew. “What was your name again?”

                        “Matthew.”

                        And on that night, the moonlit sky saw two strangers share sea secrets of their own as the brilliance of the moonlight forced the stars and apathy to shy away.