Rhythm. They sing. We write.

Why do they sing, Why do they write, Why do they live!

The caverns carved inside my body

Craves for food and I despise my lunch

For a  Regret for every happy smile

I fumble all over pages and over internet

To look for lives I could imitate

And then i rushed to the library

In between brown and shiny shelves

Hid those torn bundle of pages; held together by gum

They were supposed to blow life into my hollow halloween

When I read and re-read

I found it was another world

There was nothing Indian about it.

I felt pain. Betrayal and Deceit.

I tried fit in those words

I could not. i squished and crushed myself

I experienced joy in immense pain

Still my mould was casting a different figure

I began to read

Sit under tree shades

Eat large slices of mangoes

On hot summers along with long and large tumblers

Of refreshing drink ,gulping down the throat

Spilling some on the edges and wiping with my white T-shirt

Until the sun could be seen behind the misty mountains.

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