Question, one question

Tell me

Is it wrong to want to touch you?

You know I smile whenever I think of you

I guess it's crappy

Yah it is crappy

But I am still smiling, ear to ear

Remember that goey song

That one that you said is our song

With a stupid catchy pop tune

That you failed to even hum along to

It's playing right now,

It's actually playing right now

Quaint

Can someone feel quaint?

That's how you make me feel

The look you look at me with

I can't stop this babbling

It all started with a simple question

A single simple question

Like those trick ones you shoot out

Ambushing me when my autopilot is off

You have always been crazy

Bonkers, off the chain

Okay that's a bit harsh but its true

You made me seem normal, sane

Yes, it's true

Yes its so true

So very true

Damn it! I have to go

And that question is still hanging

I wonder if I will ever get an answer!

This was actually written by Abid, very silent friend over there, but since he doesn't seem to want to pitch in just yet...

And i noticed a couple of Visitors from TVFL (my only visitors actually, i think) "WELCOME!!" Hope its not a total drag... :-)

The City

The city, I heard, was a grand place, that is why I came here, to see if all I heard was true, to see the wonders I had heard of; the small suns in people’s homes, the small coiled black snakes that cooked without wood or fire…

But nobody had told me of this, of these tall huts that kept rising and rising, of these wide black paths that led you nowhere but took you in circles. Nobody told me of the suffering I would see here.

I remember my first day here. I was down on one of those black paths-roads they call them-wandering and admiring. I got lost hopelessly lost. Every other street looked the same, the same old rows of doors, windows, same merciless orderliness.

I remember the panic that rose in me as the day turned into night, as the natural light was replaced by the artificial light. I didn’t know the language, the white man’s tongue that every one seems to use here. If I tried to speak my own, I was shunned, treated like a leper.

I still do not know how I got back to this place I am forced to call home, maybe God had his Angels watching over me. All I know is that though I live here, in the deepest part of my heart, my soul, I still yearn for the open Savannah.

2002