Sometimes serious

In this sickeningly sweet smell of a fruit, Fruit flies fly high, and dragonflies are misled By neon lights, we sit. Arm in arm, faces stern and silent. We used to be providers, Suppliers of symbiosis. We are now parasites Of each others' joy. Sculptures we are, Of everything that has gone wrong.

When i was little, you would get angry at me. I would feel sorry. I would repent and repent and repent and repent. I would repent until you thought it was okay to forgive me And take me in your arms. Now you're dead. I miss you constantly and all the time. I miss you incessantly every day and every night. I miss you some more then. I live a foolish life without you. Hoping you would see this Forgive me, and take me in your arms.

Bell rings. Girl opens door. Is startled at a brahmin clad in a dhoti, immediately closes the door to a point that she can only barely peek. "You can't peek into a man's face and know his soul. I have just come to announce a religious gathering tonight at the ground, 7 pm onwards. Please inform your parents and everybody at home." "Um. Okay. I'll do that." "Have any of you ever been to shirdi on pilgrimage?" "No not so far. Don't know. No no." "It's okay to be startled. I know you weren't raised like a daughter at all in your home. You were raised like a son. You know that it's unwise to be trusting. It's good to have a clean heart, but you should never pretend to know the world." "I don't even know who you are, and here you are standing at my door, telling me random things about me! You just told me i was raised like a son from my dress up. But let me tell you. I can call your