Hari

This is a sleepless night. The mind is buzzing with thoughts, the possibilities, the vacuum, the people, the chances, the luck, the distress, the disgrace, the betrayal. Things are muddled and there is no rest. The shoulder droops these days and the hands carry no weight. I once wrote about the boy in that class in my school looking out from the window to the open sky. He was thinking where he would be in that world outside when his time comes. He is out there now, here in this night and through the prism of the mind he is looking back at the boy, trying to look through his eyes into his mind, to steal his dreams. But I here can't see, the picture is murky, the prism too thick. This night is sleepless, devoid of dreams, both mine and the boy's. I will remember this night. This night won't forget me. Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone