and before my fingertips caressed the keys of my laptop again, its already october.
the wind is cooler.
more tolerable.
delhi feels like a foreign city again, nights carry along this heavy delusion and fog that is akin to the one hazing my mind.
like a quiet lullaby to silence the agony summer brought upon.
the cigarette between my fingers feel less heavy on my lungs. the alcohol less stingy on my tongue.
and maybe the grief is more heavier on my ribs this time.
the jittery butterflies feel less thrilling and more frightening like a crime.
justice seems to be on board, metros seem to screech past city lights at 5 pm.
and everytime november dawns, this long lost feeling raptures my feet again.
something new, i say, fiddling with my keys, my teeth, and the sheets.
sheets that feel less warmer. less kinder.
less like home.
diwali mourns at october’s end. like fading lights from a torch meant to brighten the sky finally withering in the colder winds.
but yeah, there is still christmas, icy cold fingers, warmer jackets and bells that lights up the trees and the city again.
and between that, i still stand among the fading hues. lights that spark fail to linger in my shadows.
i stand, like everything fleets and i remain still with my icy feet. the deserted city i find myself mesmerised by around this time refreshes, like it’s something new i’ve never visited. like i haven’t spent my entire life here.
and maybe this time, im less colder to its shenanigans. less demure to its hallucinations.
is it change or nostalgia? is it my constant i fail to grasp at?
