Dance With Me

If I asked you for just one time,
To dance with me,
Would you?
Do you think we would be able,
To sync our feet,
And for once move them together,
Instead of opposite ways?
Do you think we could look into,
Each other’s eyes,
And see only a passion for music?

If I asked you for just one time,
To dance with me,
Would you ask me why?
Or would you tap along,
Assuming it’s okay,
To just dance for a while.
After all, what bad can come out,
Of a dance?

Unless,
The dance is a ploy,
If I told you,
To dance means to take his life,
To dance means to stab him,
With a knife,
Until the red gashes spill out blood,
As lava in an eruption,
Making a warm salty stream,
Thick in the beginning,
Then slowly becoming more watery,
The knife stained a permanent red.

If I asked you for just one time,
To dance with me,
Would you?

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Cluttered Thoughts

That was the last time we met. I knew, but I did not tell her that we wouldn’t meet again. It would not serve the purpose. I did not want to break her heart, but more than that, I did not want to break mine. It is always nice to have a little more anticipation deep down somewhere in your heart, dream a little more than you know you will get, wish for an extra star, live for an extra day, think about her a little more, hug her thinking there will always be a next time. But deep down, I knew, this was it. She had been a good friend, but sometimes, even the best of friends change, much like the weather. For when the clouds cover the sun, the sun does not stop shining, but it still feels helpless at not being able to meet the sunflower, and the sunflower stupid as she is, thinks the sun’s gone, and the sun, stupid as he is, keeps waiting for the clouds to remove themselves, and both in turn, become upset.

The first time I had met her, things were different. I was only trying to be a nice person, trying to fill in a void. Now that I think of it, that void was never there. It was a creation of my thoughts, and an aggregation of mixed emotions, but all of them, in reality, were made up. And I knew that. I simply refused to acknowledge the fact that I knew that. I was much like an ant, trying to fill in the void of an elephant. And though that may sound much kiddish, in actuality, it was really the same that I was doing. I later realized, that there were two distinct worlds going on in here, and that we both were weaving our dreams together, but in different worlds. And that even if we were to weave the web completely, (if that were to ever happen, which it never really happened), we would not be at the center of one web, but each of us would be at the center of two different webs which were made of two entirely different things. We were two spiders, but our needs were different. One of us needed protection, weaving a web that was small, but very strong. One of us needed food, and the web was sticky, but frail. And the funny thing was, we both thought we were one of these, but in fact, we were really the opposite of who we thought we were.

When you are climbing uphill, all you wish is to reach the zenith. It will just be an easy roll-down from there you know, and you desperately wish to just finish the climb. Yet when you start rolling downhill, you realize that this wasn’t really what you imagined it would be like. It is nauseating, you feel like puking, and you wish mayhaps a level ground would be welcoming for a change. But the level ground never comes. It is either uphill or downhill. Life is made up of such ups and downs. It is never smooth, never like the one we dream it to be. I once read an anecdote about wishes. When you are confused between two choices, flip a coin; when it is midway in the air, see whether you are really praying for heads, or tails. And you will know what you really want. Who you really want. What matters to you. What doesn’t. What you really need. Maybe I really wished for her. Maybe I really wished for us. Maybe not. Time for me to flip a coin, will tell you what I really wished for, when it is midway.

An Average Day

As I woke up, the light stinging my eye through the tiny gap between the two curtains, I silently said a small prayer for the day to be sunny as it was. But it rained. I strolled down the road, hands in my pocket, wearing a hoodie, which also covered my head, although my hair was getting damp. Yesterday I had cycled all the way, but the raindrops on my hand felt like ice pellets, and I had no gloves, so I did not want to take the risk of getting my fingers numb again. People huddled at bus stops, for there they found some protection from the rains. As I entered the university, it felt warmer. The thermostat had done a good job. The door said ‘Drücken’ the next said ‘Ziehen’. I pushed and pulled the doors as necessary, pausing now and then to say ‘Hallo’ and ‘Gutten Morgen’ to faces that were unknown at the beginning, but had now become familiar.

For instance, I knew the man in the electronics laboratory, he was okay at English and had offered to help me on the very first day when I needed a two-point plug instead of the three-point that I was carrying for my laptop. I knew the lady at the ‘Mensa’ who gave subway sandwiches. I remember how first I had thought they were cucumber slices, but later realized they were thin egg slices, which made that breakfast so good! I was slowly getting used to this place. The Professor I worked with did not know much English, but we were good. We spoke Java, and that was universal. I wonder how some people cannot speak English but can code perfectly in English. How do you understand what you are coding when you do not know the language itself? It is one of those questions that I will never find an answer to, just like I still don’t know how babies learn their mother tongue.

I had just earned my stipend yesterday, my first ever earning. It was 200 euros, and I was so happy I treated myself to a really good pizza yesterday. German food was bland in general, and Italian helped me remember how good food can be. I took a slice of bread, and went back to my lab, then made some fresh brewed coffee. I must tell you, there is no better way to start a day other than having a huge cup of coffee. Until last week I was working on a desktop with a German OS installed. It was a relief to switch from Einstellungen to Settings and Zubehör to Accessories. I now had a desktop which had Windows 7 and an English US version of that. My work had been fun lately, and I desperately wished it continued to be so.

When I came out later for lunch, it was still raining. The food was hot, but only temperature wise, nothing spicy. Mustard helped in making it bearable. You realize the value of sauces only when you’re devoid of it. As I left for home in the evening, a small part of me wanted to stay behind, wait for her. She used to stay back in the university till two in the morning sometimes; I could have waited in her lab, but then I changed my mind. Reality hit me. And I strolled back home again. Meanwhile, the clouds still poured.