The grey skies darkened the overcast minds

the broken, fearful, submissive souls

at the prick of a needle I closed my eyes

and wandered into the passage of recycled life.

Creator Sustainer Destroyer

Mr. G, what will you be for me?


Flushed down rivers of acid

I fell on my stomach on a black bed

surrounded with white walls and

besieged with robotic agents

I wondered.

Had I woken up, like Neo, in the Matrix?

I had followed no white rabbit

yet I was still dragged down a wonderless journey to here.


I opened my eyes and saw mother looking out the window at the

Bombay rain.

This was a different dream.


At 4 pm on Friday I awoke,

with many umbilical cords winding in and out.

It had been many days, they said.

It was all over now, they said.


With bellowing winds the Great Cerulean Sea had carried me

across her waters

and in a thunderous might she delivered it in the big drops

of the August monsoon.


In the mirror I could see

I had been reincarnated as me.

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