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The Clown

"At times I wonder, if I'm behind that colorful mask that I wear. Perhaps, I don't have a face. It's just a procession of hundred eyes trying to see inside me.... where I'd stopped existing a long time back. But if you smile you'll probably find me in one corner of your eyes."


MY OTHER BLOGS

May I Borrow Your Lighter Please?

I carved shadows on the midnight rains. A whole lot of despondent footprints on the water. Somewhere, underneath the third layer of the waters, I left you back with oblivion. But your shadows were lighter than the water. They came up on the surface of the water and floated with the kerosene.

"I love the smell of kerosene", you used to say.

Matchsticks. Drenched shadows in memories. Darkness. A drop of water from the tap, repetetive. Music on your bathroom floor. The intoxicating fragrance of kerosene. I saw you dancing with the flames inside your eyes. That night, you didn't let me in.

Tonight, I walk through the infinite corridors of the burnt-out rain.

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