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September 2017, vol 13 no 3

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Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy

Dream Come True

I am growing younger by the minute. So is everyone else; everything else. Whoa! Time is in reverse gear. The sun sets first and then rises. But no one notices it after the first day as they alternate anyway. Like repeating "maraa maraa maraa" endlessly. After a while, it just sounds like Raama. Or maraa, if you prefer.

string of beads
the merry go round
of a prayer

Everyone is tickled silly, congratulating each other. The woman next door can hardly wait for the day she will be twenty. Twenty years to go back in time, if you were to believe that she is only 40. Maybe on Mercury.

But hey, my sister is pregnant again. Only with the same baby she had two days ago. This is ridiculous. And I am not even thinking of what happened in the toilet.

I don't want to be not born again. I want to live. I Want to Live! I WANT TO DIE!

Monday
the layers of warmth
in my good morning


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