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.