She hadn't realized when she had drifted off to sleep.
These days,sleep seemed to be the only productive thing she did.
Because it allows her to get lost into the surreal world,
because it allows her to believe things the otherwise cruel world won't let her believe,
because it allows her to relive the past as if it weren't over yet.
As if she still had a reason to live.
As if life hadn't poisoned beyond death.
As if she were one of those teenagers who wanted to live.
Above everything else,she loved it because it allowed her to D-R-E-A-M.
Dreams of days gone,
dreams of moments carelessly gathered.
Now rotting safely in her memory.
She laughed at herself.
A dry,cynic laugh.
Sounding like a fart rather than a laugh.
Bittered with life and poverty.
The seats will be filled again.
With people from various backgrounds.
Students,working professionals,smelly domestic helps and laborers puffing away.
Some dreaming of life,some dreaming of death.
Some dreaming of four square meals,some dreaming of four-tiered cakes.
Some smelling of affection,some smelling of vermin.
Lessons will be learnt and forgotten in moment's notice.
Dreams will be dreamt and forgotten until the conductor asks for the fare.
Curses will be hidden under breath until the creepy middle-aged uncle refrains from the temptation of feeling my breasts.
The same jerk will bring everyone back to reality.
The uncle will know that I'm out of his league.
He'll go back to his wife and suck her drooping and sagging breasts to sleep.
He'll know he is no match for the young goons in red tees whom I allow to feel me up.
He'll smile a wise man's smile before falling asleep.
She won't laugh this time.
She knows better.
P.S.This post is inspired from Fantabulous February-day sixteen by Kanika on her blog Sensitive Chaos.Do check her post too.Thank you all for supporting me in this initiative. It looked too ambitious to achieve but now that I'm done with half of the month,I hope I'll be able to finish it with not-so-flying colors.Stay tuned.Love you all.