A Piece of Journey

     A 36-aged woman, with wrinkled face, is walking through a street. The sweetness that an old wise rickshaw driver told her when she got home from high school has gone. There’re only aging signs left. Yeah, that’s me. Steadily I’m stepping on a street while a set of headphone is hanging from my ears, playing a song*. A bridge, English course, alley, repair shop, chicken noodles cart, alley, my home. I still remember how I stepped this street 15 years ago, the same time, the same place, the same song. But there’s much changes, there’re many differences. 
     Fifteen years ago, a girl walked here with smile, spirit, eagerness, swinging her legs, following the rhythm of the song. I could feel it, the breeze and joy she felt, but it seems so far now. Ya so many things changed. Too many. My friends are having their kids growing up as a boy and a girl, experiencing what their Mom and Dad had. But I get stuck here, cast on a hazy gloomy island, I knew that, I knew that.


*http://sound18.mp3pk.com/indian/raajneeti/raajneeti01(www.songs.pk).mp3

When I get myself flirted

I wanna vomit,

getting my stomach nauseated,

getting myself extremely mader than before.

maybe I'm hurt too deep,

maybe the pain hasn't gone,


or maybe the anger persists