Untitled.

I.

rickshaw!  
       gripping his eyes to the tightness of her hands, each golden wisp of hair gently tumbling   
                            before his eyes' focus increasing the shutter speed of his    
rickshaw!  
        damn it! almost had the lines! her kohled eyes freeing me from my search   
                      for understanding, if not appreciation, for what is the latter    
                               but an absence of   
abe rickshaw!  
     at this rate i'm definitely getting late, though time would mean nothing if that moment  
I                                                 turn  
n                                                 e  
s               mrs. aggarwal’s pool could      r   
i                 
d    
e   

meter se chalenge? panchsheel. 

hello, sunaina? just got an auto yaa, i'm on my way, should be there in twenty. so if you could
just hold my hand once again, like you did that day in the rain, oh was it not you? or like that time in
the pool when we were counting the air bubbles we released from our mouths and watched floating
away to the surface… wasn't you this time either? this is really scaring me, this cold auto, these
familiar streets, the phone that you kept a minute ago, and you. where am i going again?

bhaiya? maine kahan le jaane ke liya bola tha? panchsheel? sorry bhaiya, aap saket le lijiye, 
panchsheel mein koi nahi rehta.

                 shayad.
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