Sweep the streets.

I will live my life as it flies off in a whiff with the smoke of my cigarette. Today, I just don't have the strength to run after it and face it and challenge it on equal terms. Its been a while since I let things be, let them take their own course of action and not try to change them, not try too hard to turn them in a direction that suits me. Because every dawn isn't mine. Because every dawn isn't meant to support my faith. Support my belief. In you and in me.
You will work so hard to mend the frame which contained a picture of us. I will work very hard too. We will look at the clothes left in our respective wardrobes and sulk a little. Because they will smell of the other one. And the other one will continue to live on in them. We will still shy away when a third person mentions the name of the other, and still imagine the beautiful picture our bodies painted together. But the distances will double themselves, and the faith will be reduced to half.
There are still a lot of dreams my eyes have kept, most of them still half realized. But when I touch these dreams in the oblivion of my past, they tell me, nobody will respect a dream that has taken a small, little unsuccessful flight already.
But both of us will keep a little secret immersed inside the depths of the shores of our heart. The secret that we will remain in the corner of each other smiles, and we will roll out with the tears we shed. Because in the tears and smiles, we will still be safe. We will still be together.

And we will also be together in the pain that our eyes will hide, in the laughter that will flow out carelessly and callously. That shrill, hollow laughter.

I used to rule the world

Seas would rise when I gave the word

Now in the morning I sleep alone

Sweep the streets I used to own

And I sweep them alone. Alone, in a bittersweet isolation. Alone, without you holding onto me.
Alone, but happy. Because you and I, my love, are meant to meet in a different world.

Dreamed of Paradise.

I don't want to run away again.
I don't want to be followed again. Ever.
I don't want to flee again. Ever, never.
I want that feeling back. Delirious happiness. That feeling of being loved, crazily, insanely and not selfishly because they told me love is one of the most selfish emotions. I wonder.

I want my childhood back, I want to climb up guava trees with my siblings again, I want my grandmother's house again.
Because now when I dream, I only dream in monochrome. There is no hint of colour. Its strange, very strange. Actually, now I have no memories of the recent years. My mind refuses to consider anything a happy memory.
When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach so
She ran away in her sleep
and dreamed of Paradise.


But now Paradise scares me. I don't know when I will be hit by a bullet, or worse, when I will lose a near and dear one. I can't walk, because my feet are tied to the ground, no, not by chains, not by rusty, antiquated chains, but by my fears. They stop me from moving, the only think that I anyway see moving are the tears trickling down everybody's cheeks. Because atleast one of them has lost a brother, husband, sister, mother, friend, because all of them have been convicted of being "terrorists" Because someone, somewhere thought that a man with a beard was out to kill, because someone, somewhere distorted religion.
If I lose it all, can little shoulders take the burden of a family ? Worse, the burden of sadness? It is miserable. This sadness. It has started to consume me, already. It feeds on my past happiness, perhaps it is envious of the coffee tinted pictures of mine which bear no scars. Perhaps, they hate little joys so bad that they don't want me to smile again. Ever.

A little too perfect. A little too empty.

I like emptiness. The most! Yes, its my favorite emotion, if you think it qualifies as an emotion at all. Its not bright hued, incarnadine and crimson like joy, sorrow, love or cobalt and jaded and faded like sorrow, misery, faithlessness. It has all the tints and pigments I ever saw the world in and none at all. Today, it shimmers through the edges of your smile, another day it dies a slow death around your tears. Its all encompassing and yet contains one thing, yes, nothing. Emptiness, I like it the most.

You know what else do I like? You. That empty smile you give me, perhaps mocking the end of things between us. You don't ignore me, would that be too unkind? I wonder. You smile at me, and your eyes don't glimmer, they don't give me the will of letting them wander on my face and then return to find them, still at me, a little breathlessly. Those hazel eyes don't urge me to pass nights only staring at them. Not anymore. Your eyes have that look too, empty, barren, black and strangely vacuous.

And there's another thing I wish I didn't like, yes, I've been struggling to kill this feeling, and have yielded no success. Your name. Those two syllables, I want to persuade myself to not react to them, not die a little inside when someone mentions them, not think of the perfect times of yesterday, not marvel at the camaraderie, and not die a little death thinking I'm never going to feel it anymore.