Many many days have passed me by, as I sleep on life. Sitting blasé watching it at a distance moving on its own pace and conditions, life looks like a morbid symphony coming out of a sordid flute or a clumsy event making it happen repetitively failing miserably to feel like anything known as NEW.

I sat in the sun like I did last winters and the ones before them and before… I watched the squirrel hopping onto trees like as if she won’t do it her world would tip off its orbit. The pigeons sitting by the ventilators grills, pondering on why they were chosen to be pigeons who would be so lumbering to get caught in the cages and be the letter carriers of the yesteryears and abandoned suddenly in the favor of technological advancements. The male creed from the labor class would roam around aimlessly with their eyes hounding for a female treat. Coffee with hot fumes and bitter sweet taste warming my hands and the delicately warmer sunshine caressing everything from dirt grain on the ground to the dirt my body is modeled with, felt as kind as the warmth of the mother’s lap; a mother who is affectionate to her bright and ungainly child alike.

A few gossips to satiate the inner demons, a few murmurs to keep the facades sanctified, the wink of the eye to woo the callousness hiding in the hearts, sparkle of the eyes because there is youth, happiness and accomplishments, and sparkle of the eyes because there is hurt, misery and failures, a proud head on some shoulders treating the rest with disdain and a head lowered in humility because it hasn’t really achieved anything, yet some more who haven’t achieved anything but are still brazenly self conceited…. And so I keep looking at it all day in and day out… as the life passes me by..