I will never delay
From,
Tommorow.

The statue moved—
now he faces south.

The statue is he
Because he couldn't move,

Or statue he became
Because he stopped moving ?

He is a statue
Because he is dead ?
Or is He a statue
Before he could die.

Stopped
Trapped
Tied
Captured,
In cement.

He can get his eyes wet
Only when it rains,
Rocks is his scarf
And pebbles all he wears

Hundred of years he is stilled
With his spot
Thousands of couples,
And only he is to rot,

Rovers come and they ask
"What's his story, why is he  there ?
Facing south."

The young kids sometimes their
Parents,
Come and they tell
"He was a man,
Everyone loved him
So he was saved just before he fell"

"Fell? Where "

" Well , he was bright
So we had to keep him alive
Someday , when he was to feel vile

So just before he could die ,
We were to save him.

Just before he took his last breath
We took his heart and pumped it
With our hands,
And blew our oxygen straight to his lungs

But our breath turned his red blood
to shrunk and slowly to be black
he turned to become
Stack of solid ash
Crystal
Not shiny
Almost like a rock,
Decades for slowly to halve and fract



We moved him to the outskirts
When city life grew cold,
He shone bright and all was fine

And as it became
A spot to dine
Date ,
Where couples are perfect fine

And we don't know why
Suddenly it turned from north to south

As if someone moved it
And we planted cement to his body
Where he could stand proudly
Not moving again
But
It was monsoon so it was hard
For cement to dry"

I, you, me, we, us, they, them
He, she, her, him.

Everything is in a circle.

“Them” is in another,
“We” is in where we are in.
He is in his circle,
As she is.

How many circles are you in?
How far can you let them exist?
The farthest one, probably,
Is being human.

But “I” is closest to me—
And everyone has their own “I,”
Where no one else can come
But them.

Each “I” is born with one circle.
As it grows, others bend it—
Overlooked, shamed, denied.

A thousand more circles
Can be drawn around you.
But no one needs a circle
Once broken into ellipse.

I don't have a special cricket bat
Which I remember Playing with
Nor a badminton racquet

I don't have it now,
Neither do I miss it

I never had a piggybank
Which I remember putting my
money to

Nor a exclusive videogame
Setup,
Which I could play all day

I never shared my things with others
Too much ,
For
it to have any marks left
I could reminisce to

I never wanted many toys
And neither do I have any left
That when glanced could make me
Feel
a bit more younger,

I was kind of aloof
could never make friends and last
them as be ,

But maybe I can
And I do feel nostalgic nowadays

I remember many friends,
Miss new ones
Laugh at older ones
And
Wish if time could ever reverse

But I never could remember
Old things
Faces
Names
Toys
And
Friends

Then suddenly why can I ?

I remember one face
Like a catalyst
Like a key
To a flashback story
Of Countless hours
Of clouded memory

Many faded away
But one remained constant

Still is,
A living souvenir
Aging
Growing
Changing
And
Affecting.

I used to care for little things.
I used to stare at her — for anything.

Her presence — a quiet warmth.
Her beauty, engraved with moral sense.

I searched for her,
Desiring… something.
Like loving summer,
Even when it wasn’t the season.

Why can’t I feel now?
Why can’t I see now?

I lied.
Not to her —
To myself.
Camouflage.
Pretending.
Hiding the real me
Behind polite smiles
And the fantasy
Of her fragrance.

The wind passed.
She didn’t.
And I —
I only needed to breathe
That one moment.
That moment to live,
Not merely pass through.

Why can’t I lie now?
Why can’t I breathe now?

I used to do anything for her.
I used to feel too much.
Sad.
Emotional.
Mad.
Human.

I used to dream of you.
And in dreaming,
I forgot
Which part was real.

Why can’t I be mad now?
Why can’t I be sad now?
Why can’t I dream now?
Why can’t I feel now?

Then — that night.

She stood
On the bow of the boat,
Hair caught in wind,
Hands folded,
Lips soft with mist,
Moonlight whispering on her skin.

The sea slashed the port.
The wind howled through silence.
The stars stood still.

She stepped forward.
Closer,
Closer,
And closer —

Until her breath became words:
“A good dreamer you are,
Beloved.”