One day a girl named Mrin was walking down the road when suddenly she heard the clouds crack and roar. She quickly whipped out her umbrella and was surprised to hear a loud splat instead of the pitter-patter of rain drops. But what shocked her beyond belief was when she looked down and saw a puddle of colorful muck stuck to her feet. “What sorcery is this!” she exclaimed. “Did the clouds get high on buckets of paints or am I just dreaming again?”
The monochromatic room Speaks in a whispered volume Through the window by the bed I look outside at the pouring rain Holding a cigarette. Hazy smoke fills the air Blurring the 70-square foot room I close my eyes Listen to the sound of the pouring rain Holding a cigarette.
In some kind of a dreamy state Feeling some kind of euphoric sense of freedom Smoke rises from the chimneys of old roofs The world has turned grey From the streets and the skies to the walls of the room Like the falling ash Like this metallic chair On which I sit in my white underwear Taking in a deep drag Feeling the sharpness of the smoke Buzzing through my mind Through my bare naked feet It feels right I wonder why? Why does everything bad have to feel so good? The heaviness The carelessness The messy sheets The art on the walls – The only thing worth holding on to. This greyness in the air Is like a song that plays In some corner of the mind This greyness in the air Brings out the freak inside Looking up at the sky With one foot on the chair and one hand resting on the knee Holding on to this burning desire A grey wisp of smoke curls in the air.
Holding on to all that’s present in this Dull artistic greyness Writing away all that I want All that I feel, Old memories come back to life. Where has that girl gone? Disappeared like thin air Into the mist Reckless and bold, Sassy and cold. Hidden somewhere deep inside Safe in a grey corner of my mind.
Every morning, Anima enters the gates of our home at 5.30 AM and goes straight to the garden to collect fresh herbs.
Anima is a cook in our house and I have known her since I was a child. Every day she goes to the kitchen with a smile holding a bunch of fresh mint in her hands like they are a bouquet of flowers.
Every morning, we drink mint juice with breakfast and there is always extra stocked up in the fridge. I wonder why Anima is so obsessed with mint, even Appa and Amma never tell her anything.
Sometimes I have seen her from the terrace watering the mint garden and mumbling silent prayers. I felt she was going crazy.
I even went up to her one day and asked,
“Anima, why do you like mint so much?”
She gently brushed her hand through my hair and smiled at me.
I never got an answer.
I was upset, I couldn’t take it anymore so I decided to stop all the madness. At night, I secretly went into the garden and destroyed all the mint plants.
Next morning, I wake up and see Anima sobbing by the wreckage in the garden. Appa and Amma look like they are in a state of shock. They just stood by her side, motionless.
Next second, I see them come running towards my room.
I look at them in confusion and ask,
“What’s wrong? Why do you all look so awful? It was only mint!”
They stand in front of me wide-eyed without saying a word.
I could feel myself turning pale.
Amma bursts out crying, “Lips.. her lips are turning purple. Call the doctor!”
I feel the room spinning in circles and my legs feel like jelly. While being carried in Appa’s arms I see a faint light, a disheveled garden and Anima standing solemnly by the door holding onto rotten mint leaves.