I AM SMRITI RAI

'Chup... Chup...' says this tiny petite figure  sitting on my dinner table with those capable eyes too curious to lend her view to me. I was complaining about the other person, but she would not have it. Her: How would you feel if someone did that to you? Her thoughts straight as the sound made by birds found me when I was lost in the maze of making my own mark. I still don't know  what she was doing in the same maze so I keep asking her 'what are you thinking about?' She says we met before but I guess I was on my own phase trying to figure out if the other person needed more help than me... But I remember on the bus back from Winter Wonderland when the lady sitting behind us didn't care about what we were talking about, but we were too loud to give a damn about what she didn't care about. So, we ran laps around the same bus from China to Vietnam, from Vietnam to Slovakia and from Slovakia to telling the truth. All the while, the lady behind us

Laura always says I call everyone I meet, my soul something (soul friend, soul mate, soul manager)  but it is true that I have met soul sisters in every face of the earth but when you were wearing that baby blue scarf the other day, two days after when you handed in your three years' worth of work. You were exhausted on the fourth day but still, you came.  Let me remind you, you were light as that sky, but whenever they made a business out of your rock and claimed it to be theirs, they forgot that God made that rock too. Whenever your faith stood puzzled in between the whistle of your doorstep and up to the rooftop of your spine, I stood bare shoulder in the front room wishing for a better view. But that time when the ignorant old belief took a sword out on your baby blue, it left me black and blue... First, the American Dream got trickled down through the world. Second, it opened the door for one sheep to enter. Third, a flock of fears were peeping through the window.

"What do you think of Brexit?" asked the tuk tuk driver leaving us at Bairro Alto viewpoint where I noticed Lisbon bearing its orange heart out to every being that walked with her.  All Saints day it was, when the November shook the core of this city. What now remains a ruin, I stood in the centre wondering if the transformation of this church lead to the beauty of boundless blue sky but I couldn't help thinking about the stories that were buried deep underneath. The other day, we walked towards the High Cross from where I could see the Palace of Pena. I asked my sister if the queens ever walked this garden because my feet was hurting. The palace was placed beautifully and even the ignored rocks etched in the valley of lake knew that it owed its magnificence to the German mine engineer so I did not want to complain.  This heart does not owe any apology when it feels out of place and thats what your sister is for to remind you that the other lady that sang h