Familiarity begets distance. Or distance familiarity…? 12 years is a long time. Intermittent rains…scorching heat… at one point everything seems to be same.
Did it rain last night? Or was I dreaming?
Dead pines have left their cones. Someday they may germinate… weeping willow whips the air… for now.
Some things never go away. Remember, last-time you had cried over whisky. Things just refuse to fade out. In fact nothing goes. Stars of midnight are all there… buried in sunlight. Did the grand old man say this? Of course he did. Who cares… now I am saying this.
Up in the market, they just sliced the lamb.
The meaty fatty one did not make a sound. It was dead long back. Knives only made the meat accessible. Flys celebrate the stench… dogs, the bones thrown.
The ascetic had prayed to the deity. Let lambs grow on trees. He is a vegetarian, walking around the countryside barefoot in his tattered white robe.
The crook has struck a deal. This time he wont fail. Dogs and lambs look the same once you skin them.
The dainty girl is horrified. “They actually kill and skin a lamb for its meat?” “But kebabs are so yummm.” Mixed emotions I think.
The boozer is a little dazed. Lamb steak is great… what’s the fuss all about.
Christmas years away.
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