I am in a corridor , on fire .
Running endlessly, in a maniac haste.
My mouth grotesque with a bitter taste.
“Put out the light, and put out the light”
And the fight?
What about the fight that I have been fighting all along
Struggling, exploding, folding, unfolding
Deaf to the sounds escaping my parched throat?
Why was Othello’s command being followed up there?
It was bizarre , this star-less night !
Now , I am stuck in a polythene bag
I struggle some more and settle a score
Yanking away the bag and night’s shackles ..
I glimpse a manuscript lying on the table .
Am I in the midst of a nightmare or a fable ?
My eyes fix on the full stop ending the story.
Ah, the full stop!
I open my eyes to another story
Which rides into my room, clinging on to the sunbeams bright.
The night is over, dark and long
I hearken to the sounds of the morning song
Bloated with promise,
Filling me with bliss