New York, I still love you.

“You know?” he says, “NY is a lot like Mumbai”

“Yup. I’m glad I decided to live here.”

“We live like them, you know… you and I. Not the others. Just you and I.”, he says dreamy-eyed.

When you decide to design your life chasing ideas, moods become even more powerful.

“Hmm…”

She never looks at buildings in the night sky though. Tiny squares of light – white, hospital, old yellow, blue, green, standing out through the skeletons.

It was cold inside, but the warm outside air doesn’t quite thaw her lips.

She weeps inconsolably… another one of those weeps she can’t describe. Only it chokes her. Again.

While dreaming, you don’t think of what it costs to get there. Time. An absolute bitch.

“Lets just grow some balls and do it”, she says

“Hmm…” noncommittally.

Sometimes, you have to use words. To make up for the space between ideas and time. Slip ‘em in so she doesn’t buckle under the Bitch. Atleast until the next time.

“You have to look desperate enough”, she hears someone say, “Act like you have no other option and you are out on the streets. That’s how I got myself a room”

“Hmm… well THAT shouldn’t be tough.”

Only look into flats when you are close enough. To seeing something like furniture, curtains, woodwork, fixtures, laundry. Or close enough otherwise.

“Do you wanna watch it again?”

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know if I’m watching it again.”. she snaps. “Am I?”

“Will you watch it again with me…”

“Well do I watch movies with anyone else??”

It sweeps past, missing her this time.