Something almost out of a dream.

There's something special about living by the sea, and the seasons deciding not to follow the patterns they are supposed to according to fifth standard geography books. Its all mixed up really. Sometimes I feel that every season is exploding into each other, slowly merging into each other to disorient me. Every tree decides to shed its leaves when its' heart so desires. There are beautiful red leaves under my feet when I walk ever so dreamily, fooling me into believing that its autumn. And when I look upwards towards the hot Sun, it streams through translucent jewel green leaves, filtering its yellow threads into the world. I walk slowly, imagining the textures of stone, of the roads, of your fingers linked with mine, of your voice. I walk past a school and the noisy children do precious little to bring me out of my dreamy world. The school buses full of laughter and fight, the fallen and rapidly melting purple ice-lolly, the dirty and cuffed uniforms remind me of an innocent, special time.

Innocent joy, what harm are we doing to anyone except for ourselves? Stealing magical time, once every day, spinning dreams together. Waiting so much just for those five glorious minutes. Such joy, and such reality. Waiting so much to never see that hated, despised word again. Bye.

Every song has your voice and every smile hides yours. Somewhere hidden, in the labyrinth of my imagination are the words you've said to me. I pick the days spent with you in my hands, and shiny, they slither to the floor. Softly, like a whisper , dreamily like a little child's mind, you intoxicate me with my own name. Why does it sound so beautiful coming from you? And why does yours roll off my tongue, silently, like a secret. I am almost afraid to say it out loud, the walls have ears or so they say. Why should the walls know my innermost thoughts?

There already is early summer fruit on the mango trees lining my lane. The koels are waiting expectantly for the fruit to swell and sweeten, so that they can bore into them, drinking the sweet nectar. They wait, and so do I. They do not falter, like every generation before this one.
I will not falter, when I know you await me too.