Naked Soul

She looks at her reflection in the large wooden-framed mirror. Behind her the rain falls on the window, making a soft sound. It’s a grey, grey day – the girl in the mirror says. She sees a girl. A girl who loves words. A girl who loves to write. A girl who often gets lost in the world of beautiful words. A girl who stays up to write… yet, who finds it very difficult to express herself. And at times when she can’t, she so hates it and wants to run and hide.

She calls me Zeba

A dream… a story… a memory…

I lay on the prickly brown-green grass, reading a book. I have a lot of time here, in this dream. This little town in the lap of mountains pampers me. I feel like a child in possession of peace and happiness again. I don’t worry about the bills, the job, the monies, the false friends, and even the repercussions of being ‘myself’ with kin. I am far away from all that – I’m with happiness here.