Sanjana Srikumar
What do they mean to truth?
A dream-come-true fairytale, perhaps?
A rags-to-riches, cleverly marketed
text on marketing.
Are you dreaming, love?
Of the end,
The light after.
Of emptiness.
I dream too.
Not castles and bagpipes.
Not fairytales.
Sounds quite the same though,
As I lie awake,
Thinking of you.
I dream of you too.
Are you dreaming,
Of letting go,
Of pain,
And watch it all disappear?
I dream too.
Of your hands on me.
Are you dreaming, love?
Of playing cricket on the streets,
Smashing glass windows,
Running away, scot free.
I dream too.
But you never escape me.
Is there music?
When you dream,
Is there music?
I hear the song that played in the 'kaali-peeli'-
Crammed against you
Floating really.
Is there dancing?
I can never quite picture that.
I am, of course,
Dancing-
Dreaming of movement
As I froze.
I dream too
Of your hands on me,
Smashing glass windows,
Running away scot free-
You never escape me.
Me?
Floating really.
Dreaming of movement
As I froze
To the music in the kaali peeli.
And learnt that persistence must be awarded,
No just means not yet,
And yes sounds confusingly like my silence.