20 minutes

Walking down alone, along the deserted pavement by a busy roadside at 6pm.

The clickety click of the three-inch heels; kicking up a little dust with every step. Licking on my favourite Kwality Walls Orange stick icecream; humming “It’s my life” and feeling the gentle evening breeze softly caress my tired face.

Never knew a walk back from office to home could be this blissful.

I love my evening walks these days. I have 20 minutes all to myself. To walk the way I want. Eat what I want. Let my thoughts wander where they want. Weave my dreams out of incoherent thoughts. It’s my space, all mine. It’s my life.

Poisoned

You want me to be my vivacious self, the one you fell in love with many moons ago
You want me to be chirpy, and listen to the music in my heart
You want me to be happy, and glow in my ebullience
You want to see me alive again.

But that's not possible anymore. The poison, it is spreading.

Maybe in afterlife.