As I came down to the front of the house with a broken sun over the long brown tree,
it came to me in an uneven motion…
It purred and brushed itself on my trouser.
There was no sound coming out of any other drunk existence…
Just the silent digger and me in an all gone monsoon evening.
It was like a soundless movie.
And I liked the touches…I always like intimacy which is Savage and meaningless.
It was wild in it’s own way but it lacked meaninglessness.
I took a hit from my fast going green joint…there’s nothing more in me to burn, so I burn grasses to get hold of me.
So many cars are passed in a lifetime…so many roads are taken to the destinations and still we say we are exclusive in our endurance,
Ha! What a funny way for our own consolation.
I took a turn towards the house…I never looked back at my furry companion…
I guess it followed me in. I never knew…I still don’t know.
Once I read somewhere that either you should feel completed with your death or you should feel all violated by it…but you should never be in between them.
I liked the idea…I can’t complain about violations…but I need go a long way to be happy with creations and uprooting and i need something less hallucinatory to appreciate the warm and fuzzy being that was at my foot.

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Photograph: Fayiaz Salim.