Few words, fewer thoughts

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It’s a love triangle, on my terrace, in a hot summer night of April. Me, my pillow and the sleeping mat.

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“You are such a diluted thinker.” As I was adding the soda in whiskey, my glass whispered.

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The skeleton of my closet is out after all. The skeleton of the lizard that died months ago, in the corner of the closet door.

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“I die every day, little by little, so all of you can live.” My power bank’s angry voice nudged all my mobiles and tablets.

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“Tu jahan jahan chalega, mera saaya saath ho ga.” My umbrella was humming to me.

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“Stop! You are killing me.” Sleep screams out at the alarm. “I’m sorry, somebody set me up.” Alarm answers back.”

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“Hey, no water, it’s empty.” Mars snapped back at earth. “I drank it all.”

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