Flitting, flitting, floating on a path parallel to time
Living in a state of stupor
Shunning illusions and realities.
No sound seeps through to my sleep
Though wake-up alarms are set
Friends exist but are fast drifting
Keeping afloat, castles of their own realities
Arcs of dust and dried up water; scratches
Paths on the windshield; an old man cleans my car.
A heaviness descending and grabbing hold tight
Taking me sinking, too heavy for time, below
Above, the farce playing out –
Bright lights and corporate masks
Large ambitions and cold machines
A place neither for warmth nor for friendship
I spin narrower and narrower,
A cocoon suffocating itself – suspended in time
Little snippets of a dear friend’s life
Singing SMS words, to me – her diary
A beautiful continuation of the times spent together
Of walking in the rain
Of staying up late
Listening to music
And painting portraits with turmeric and lipstick
Chanced upon a movie; ‘Taste of cherry’ (Persian, drama)
A man with dead eyes and suicide in his head
Asking around to be buried at dawn
An old man he meets narrates
Of a day he walks to a tree
To hang himself free from living
When a mulberry’s taste yanks him
Back, back to hope
And a wish to watch another sunrise
In the dead eyes Life conspires again
A smiling new friend comes to stay
She makes ginger tea and toasts.
We talk and laugh and watch movies.
Success and failure as a choice
Warped lives and hypocrite societies
Luck by chance and Dev D
A morning comes and I break free.
The dark dawn whispers to me the secret of happiness.