There are big things like the Self and Reason and Rationality and Rules.

There are small things like stupid pointless words.
Or, like running out of cash.

And the places we own would know

How miserably poor
How terribly rich

Were the moments we could have finished


It’s fatuous to wake a few wasted back and white Small Shots from the ruins, is it? Specially when you have unscrewed the top of your head and picked a few things from there and a few things from here, cut here, pasted there and rummaged and tangled so Big Things could be born, before you screwed it back.

If not that silly, then well, I could have a few things to say, you know.

For example, I could tell you that I really miss someone.

Sazzhha

Number One: whats ur take on all dis? why do u think dis happens to me?
Number Two: because u break traditions
But it wont happen to u
anymore
Number One: :)
how come?
Number Two: u'll see
Number One: ok
:)
thats nice
i figured since we became or started to become frndz
when u called me billo fr d 1st time
Number Two: I think we find happiness in little things
Number One: yes we do like chiku
Number Two: and we like flying kites
Number One: yes
Number Two: and looking up till the kite catches the wind
Number One: :)


I shall write about our Sazzhha sometime.

Coffee

He said
A few words in private

As I assumed
Indifference

Looked here and there and away
Flicked through the carte
Played with the cell
Hummed a tune

He twisted my fingers
Softly

Held my eyes in his
And an eternity we held
In a moment

And from where
My breath ended and his began
The evening whispered words in private

He and I
Only he and I

We knew.

" ey tumi kemon tumi chokher taaraay aaynaa dhawro/ ey kemon kanna tomaar aamaay jawkhon aador kawro"

The train was on time.
I reached right on time, so I didn't miss it, I returned home.

I returned with too many questions and with a few answers as well.

And with rain in my ears, with storm in my heart, with smoke in my lungs; with boundaries made, erased and redrawn, I returned, from the play of half-light and shadows.

But I could afford to return on time, I have learnt playing dangerous games.. And in the process I have snipped off some parts of me, discovered some other, all to the end it feels really scary: the fire of the woman waking.

Here I have some more to add:
Sometimes you need to fall apart, so you can put the right pieces together. Sometimes you need travelling very, very far, so you can come back home stronger.

I say:
One moment.
One explosion of clarity.
The tripping point.
And the universe can change.