after a night of magic moments, i'm waking up,
not hungover but fresh, and brushing my teeth
to the rhythm of the fajr.
i'm sitting down by the tall, narrow, flowergrilled window
and reading gravity's rainbow, watching the sky lighten
and sounds filling in: birds chirping, crickets cricketing,
sweeping, garbagetrucks whistling, people talking
in telugu the musical language, brushing and spitting, gagging,
gargling, hawthooing, poojaing, crows cawing, morning morning.
i'm thinking that mental illness is the surplus
of mental production that has achieved independence.
or maybe it's the other way round: the sky lightens
because the sounds fill in, as if it is silence
that holds darkness together and each small sound
uncovers a piece of the dark puzzle, making the sky
an antipuzzle of light.
don't worry, we can have good mornings too.
~ ajay
26/9/2024
