Things are not so simple anymore. Being a desi kid, I moved out late. Decision making seemed like a curse. But that was the first pebble. Not being able to move on is even worse. There is so much disaster. Life is all flowery and purplish until you’re headbutted into it. Things mattered. Then, people did. Now, they’re fading away and I can’t help it. I don’t want to grow any older. I cannot afford to lose anyone. I am selfish. I can’t live without them. Nothing else seems fancy. I’m so scared I might wake up one day to find people circled round my bed offering me shoulders to cry on, with pitying eyes and overrated consolations. That ‘d be so unfair. I know it’ll happen and I’m dreading it. I’m so confused. Living today or dreading tomorrow? I’m stuck in the middle with my miserable excuse of a sensible being.
Fiddling with the hem, she waited
Patiently, for the approaching shadows
Turning away from the receding seasons,
The dying Sun and the moaning meadows