Thrive...

The rustic sleepwalker was doing his usual rounds.Only,this time,he had his head-phones on.The wind lashing against the branches of the coconut tree,The Sleepwalker had his head-phones on.Thriving to the beats,he did not even flinch,when a little bit of coffee splurted out of the mug.The night was stormy.

This,that and a lot many things splashed past him.The guitar strums got louder and louder,the storm raging fast and furious.The soft eyes peered at him through the dark,the glint in them shimmering and sashaying.

Next morning,he woke up to the bells ringing in some distant temple.
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He was standing in front of the coffee machine.Watching the rain drops on the glass pane.The smell of coffee swirling around.And then he saw her.The hair right in place.The small bindi in between her eyebrows.The perfume,the pink polished nails.He sighed and went back to his cubicle.

For one derelict moment,he thought about Mama Pendse.


The bells were ringing outrageously.He cudn't concentrate on the files piled high in front of him.The mellow coffee did not help him either.A flash of lightening,and he was running through the wild tea gardens.The soft grass beneath his sneakers,The rain water drizzling ,almost with a slow musical rhythm.Then he saw the well.How wierd.A well,overflowing with water,abandoned.In a tea garden.Wasn't it a tea garden?Suddenly,he was high above the ground.Yea,he could see the well.The circular structure, the cement worn away here and there,the dark murky water threatening to overflow,brimming around the edges,the smooth circular edges.How he wanted to touch it.The cold hard cement.It felt amazing to run his finger around the edges.Only,it was not a well.It was the coffee mug.


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He was on his way back home.It was a jerky bus ride through the dusty roads.He could see the orange Sun setting,he saw it through the scratched window pane.The Sun, a perfect circle,blazing orange.Blazing, just like that bindi in between those eyebrows.


He got down at his stop,walked up to his apartment building and started climbing the steep stairway.Exhausted as he was,his steps were heavy,he was sweating profusely.As the sixth floor approached he leaned on the railing, and fumbled for his keys.


Maybe he had drifted off.
When he opened his eyes, it was dark already.
It was was hot and he felt sticky.
He found himself in the terrace.It was an old building.Wearing away here and there.He liked the huge terrace.He liked staring at the crumbling walls.

As the salts of existance get grinded by my bare hands,
and the mackerel sky is cluttered with a thousand kites,
the hissing waves jump inside my headphones,
I am finally set free.

Now where did he get that from...
Something was wrong,something was missing.Headphones,thats it.He needed headphones.Reeling under the pressure,he tried going down to his apartment.His head hung heavy,he wondered what was wrong with him,if anything at all.What was he looking for ?here in this ruined apartment,tthe furniture in shambles,turned upside down.Wasn't he supposed to go down in his own apartment?To get headphones..Wait..he already had the headphones..last he remembered,he was supposed to get them from his apartment.So what was he doing here?His cell phone torch ablaze,the bright moon shining though the cobwebs...why couldn't he just turn and go back to his place? He kept going ahead.Bumping into what seemed a three legged table,he cupped his ears,he wanted to know where the music was coming from.Who could be playing music at this hour?The dusty floor creaked beneath his feet as he worked hard.He had to keep pace with himself.A flash of light.Wasn't it the bright orange duppata?He had to follow.He bumped into a wall.The cell phone battery was low.No,he would not calm down,he had to find out.One fraction of a second passed by,as he finally captured the blazing orange Sun,the perfect round bindi,in between those finely arched eyebrows.
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They found his body in the morning.
It was sprawled out in front of the apartment building.
He had his headphones on.
The music was still playing.