As world transpires into a moonlit desert –
Chilly, gray and with hints of colour.
The pale lush of the thorns,
Marking the edges of an otherwise serene horizon.
The cool breeze from the mellows of the dunes,
Carrying hope in form of whiffs from the sea.
Making me imagine myself walking barefoot
On the boundary of this world.
Deserted myself; blew up into the smoke,
Drowned in liquor; walked out of all ties,
Tied to posts and hung from the cliff;
Gasped for drown; vomited dragon.
Made more alone; walked out of body,
Flew off the ground; hit the clouds,
Blasted through the mountains,
Burnt into ashes; destroyed in oblivion.
What if in your dreams, someone breaks into your house and knocks you down and you wake up the next day with a blow in your head. How long will it take for you to realize the difference between reality and dream?
The dreams of fantasizing resides the truant adore,
Of a temptation miles long.
Slithering on a jump-board cliffed from one shore.
Beliefs and ‘stitions cuddled under the stampede
Of the imaginations’ kaleidoscope,
Transient shadows carving shapes
Through ecliptic proportions that can never reborn.
Scheduled drops withstand the distance.
Venturing hands search for an opening.
Half-open panes push aside
Those eager to escape the Bubble,
Extending their tired arms,
Begging to survive.
From the bed in our old house, I could see the park and all those playing there. How lucky they were!
Ma said that rats would come one day, take my teeth and give back stronger and sharper ones. “Ma, when will the rats come? It pains!” Ma was not there to hear me. Nobody hears me. Even Majid Bhai would not listen to me when I say that I’m spitting blood. Anyway, when everyone would be celebrating, I would have to work.