Somnambulism

I fall from terrible altitudes of sleep

Into an unknown dream

People on the street shout: Azaadi

I chase them

With sharp edges of stolen rainbows

They all meet me

On the cracked roof

Of my ancestral house

I jump

And fracture few dreams

Few drops of blood

Mark my path

I too shout: Aazadi

Pain blooms like flower

Inside my head

It exhales high scent of conspiracy

I crawl

Into my grandmother’s Pheran pocket

It’s dark like grave

Moon comes down

Sits

Silent like a kind nurse

My grandmother sings

Lalded

To lull me to sleep

I shout: Aazadi

She sings again

Nundresh

I shout: Hunger

She feeds me

With terrifying stories

Of Arabian Nights

I console myself

With newly found marbles

I take them all

Inside my right palm

And run hard

Faster than bullets of tragedy

Cutting through pepper smoke

And invisible shouts

“Hey you!

What do you have in your hands?”

I swallow one marble

“Tell us, you bastard!”

I swallow another one

“Come here or I’ll kill you”

I throw the last one at him

He exchanges my marble

With old rusty bullet

It’s stuck

Into my head

Inside the cobwebs

Of my dreams

What fools!

Such terrible trade

I shout again: Aazadi

Aazadi sings back

In my grandmother’s voice

I fall again from terrible altitudes of sleep

Into another unknown dream