September in India


Amy Winehouse – Tears Dry (Original Version)
Maverick Sabre – I Need

It’s monsoon season.
Everyday ends with a storm.

This might be the part where you expect some sort of long self reflection or a story about how the power goes out every hour, but it’s not. Allow me to keep this short.

There are a lot of answers looking for some sort of solidity and it’s out of my hands.
Questions I’ve never bothered asking because I’ve never been out on this kind of edge.
If there is peace inside a semi-slum market in Pune, I may not be the one that finds it.
Everything has reached eye-level. I’m intimidated, I’m laughing, I’m alone, I’m inspired, I’m disconnected, I’m focused.

If time could talk it’d tell me I’m in over my head and a part of me would believe it but my experience doesn’t begin with some sort of confession. I’m my own canvas, I’m the masterpiece.


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