In desert

I scoffed at his memories,
when he said he remembered his school,
the lawn in winters,
the cricket, the dust and the heat,
the banana vendor, the walk back home.
I scoffed at him when he tried to call his memories sweet.
when he spoke about his first day in a big school.
when he told me about how inviting the school seemed to him
I thought he was being a sissy, an also run when he told me about his grief
and his struggle to cope with it
i put him in the league of ordinary and he smiles.
He smiles and i can't stand it.
i live a dream and he came out of it.
............................................
yes i live a dream, dream much too surreal
grief, agony, happiness, smile,
and blah blah....
my dreams make them all look stupid..

i whistle, i sing a song
i let the moment pass..
Its much to surreal to make judgements i say meekly
So let's make it someone in the club says
we pass drinks, we share our tragedies, out great adventure stories
someone shares his boring silly day and we are all hooked to it.
A boring day?
well that's real, a relief, we all murmur..
All we need is a boring day the joker shouts
we raise a toast to the the boring day.....
we promise ourselves to be mediocre and boring..
or at least pretend..
to be real...
.....................................
In the desert it's all too real
i have never been to one.. i prefer to think about it...
Prepare.. says Moturam.
The wish to conquer the desert is cop out i say.
from someone who never had the courage to own a moment in the lush green valley..
Muturam smiles at my tattered cloth, my parched torn sandal's...
He knows....
It's not about cop outs or courage he says. it's about asserting my right to exist..
Asserting my right to be miserable..
Why does everyone preach and thunder about the virtues of happiness anyway?
If it's all a farce why one is better than another?
Moturam has learnt a lot..
He knows it all..
I slip out.
And walk away...



shah of blah