Q) Describe a Peaceful Place. By Hafsa Nauman


The wet, desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright, yellow street lamps. The small, green trees on the roadside swayed as the strong breeze hit them.

Above a faded zebra crossing, a traffic light frantically changed colors seeming rather like a disco light. A watchman snored comfortably on his dark brown stool under the protection of his shop’s roof. Huge giant buildings stood besides the street, quiet as if taken over by an army of libraries. Some windows gave out white and yellow lights, but the others were pitch black. It seemed like the clouds had gotten a sudden fascination to the moon and wrapped themselves around it. The moon’s faint glow passed through them, coloring them white from grey. The cool monsoon air carried a sweet moist scent like a candy shop kept inside a refrigerator. The pitter-pattering of the rain, which was now deaf to ears, was interrupted time by time during the night. Once a car passed by. Stray dogs began barking, while the deafening music from the car echoed around the street. The car soon disappeared and the dogs stopped barking satisfied that they had scared the car away. Later, a taxi came down the road and parked. A bunch of young kids came out laughing emphatically. The taxi drove away but the children stood at the corner of the lane, yet laughing vigorously. A man screeched out from his window and cursed at the noisy children who went mute immediately. A few lights flickered open through the windows and nosy neighbors looked out to inquire. Aunties made sure they had  memorized enough points to gossip over tomorrow. 

The rustling and bustling gave me comfort looking at the stars dancing across the sky fighting against the grey to show off their beauty. Their melody slowly lulled me to sleep, reciting their visual poetry for the eyes willing to follow the rhythm. Wooden doors creaked as night-owls rushed out from their home’s embrace over the high balconies of the old apartments admiring the city come alive at night. The smell of fallen rain, petrichor wafted around the neighbourhood, deep sighs could be heard echoing down the street, spreading a sheet of calm over the people like aromatherapy. Gazes darted at the serenity of the atmosphere encapsulating them into a bubble. 

You could hear the footsteps of children running away from their mothers desperately trying to put them to sleep or that of tired fathers blasting the news on full volume, the sound of the headlines dispersing all over the neighbourhood. Crickets played their harmonies for their fans to hear, while cats attacked each other, revolting against the injustices of the kingdom in the streets. Meowing loudly in protest. The cricket doors slammed again. The streets of the city now rested again in lifeless silence except the gentle pattering of the raindrops. It lay there just like it had for many a changing year ready to rise when the sun’s auburn rays would start to cast grey shadows over it. My heart yearns for the city’s livelihood, putting me at home, at peace, at last. 


About froebelianwriters

I am an English Language teacher teaching O'Levels Edexcel and CIE A Levels at Froebel's International School, Islamabad. I am also working as a Subject Specialist Literacy consultant for the same school. Writing and reading has always been a passion and I try my utmost to instill these habits and hobbies in my students as well. I can be reached/contacted at fabbas227@hotmail.com or 03365287335 Happy reading!

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