This is a season of madness..of raw sunshine warming your toes..the green wind of a tangy city blowing inside you and when the thought of going away never leaves you.
you discover the unfurling of a wonderful newness.this is a season of yellow dust and insane laughter inside a yellow car,of lessons learnt from children with adorable smiles.
all you want to do is sit atop an old piece of junk,in midst of all the rubble and stare at the sun.
think of careless glances,walls.envy.
think of this mad season.
you admire the shape of a leaf,trace its contours and think of history,of stones inscribed in an unknown script and the strange loop of writing bothers you to tears.
you need faces.
you need stories.
you need that brightness back.
you need to dance in the dust.
you need to choose.
you wonder why mornings are so different from evenings.
you miss a language,so alien and beautiful.
do you need a new name?
