Why don’t you ever sleep?
Aren’t you tired?
Aren’t you tired of carrying the burden of billions of dreams?
Aren’t you tired of hustling till you cannot differentiate between your blood and sweat?
Aren’t you tired of restricting your mechanical wings?
Aren’t you angry?
Don’t you want to scream?
Don’t you want to dream?
How do you dream without sleeping?
Take some rest, the night is creeping.
I can’t help but wonder,
how do you manage to scream so loud?
How do you manage to scream so loud that you are heard by the pandemonium of the entire crowd?
How can you tear your gullet and scream amidst the caterwauling of honks in traffic and the dissonance at the train stations?
How can you ache so deeply that the pain entangles the entirety of atoms with your howl’s vibrations?
Does your scream manifest as the little girl in a floral dress and pigtails writing poetry?
Or does it manifest as the rebellious teen in black lipstick making graffiti?
Does it manifest in the vadapav wala who does Rap’s choice?
Or does it manifest in the politician’s daughter who directs Street-play’s voice?
As the dust glistens in the sunbeams,
And an innocent boy smiles and gleams,
You answer me.
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