As long stretches of empty cranes stood waiting, for the last of the Ganesha's to bid adieu, I felt my eyes welling up from a sadness that was not mine. How the stories encoded in my genes have a life of their own will forever remain a mystery to me. I do not fight it, I do not disown it, and I am not enslaved by it. We will live in harmony, until Dussehera . Then again, the celestial tales from ancient myths will come thundering down upon this ancient land. As electrons entangled through endless time and space, we will spin with abandon, as our creators spin within us.
A stud of hers had fallen And lost itself in some dark corner Of my other wise very clean room Raj! She screamed There is broken glass in there. She was bleeding A lustrous post office red. I am sorry baby I am unaware Of shards of broken glasses Hiding in my dark places And hurting Those who come searching there. You are my light baby Shine on.