Strangers

Mother says not to talk with strangers
and I always wondered why,
“How do I make friends if I didn’t say hello?”,
I’d always asked myself.

But today,
I realize that
There are three kinds of strangers.
The first one –
we smile at each other and become friends
just like that
one of them might offer drinks
just to calm my nerves down,
I am to perform next you see,
and another might offer to tell  jokes.
but to be friends – friends
we’d have to meet again and again
bump into each other,
share a ride,
a drink
a moment.
and it will all come naturally
no need to beg.

The second one –
is someone like you.
asking to drop me off somewhere
just because I am a girl walking alone one night
of course you say you know me,
doesn’t everybody do that?
Know each other?
Then you say you want to be friends?
Are you sure of that?
Do you know what it takes
to be my friend?
How strong you need to be?
How patience?
And enduring?
Not to be too happy by my sweetness
as I tell you how much I miss you in-between our 4 hours of no-chats
or how I have been waiting for you to come online
And not to be sad by my rudeness
because the next moment,
I might choose to ignore you and not talk to you forever
I might block you from my memory
I might filter you.
Do you think you can handle it?
You can handle my mood swings,
my emotional ride
that drowns you now
and then makes you fly
do you think you can handle my craves
for ice-cream and chocolates
for tea and tea
in the middle of the night?
Do you think you can save yourself
from the devil in me?

For the third kind
is I,
I am the devil in disguised of an angel
I will make you feel good,
loved, cared and wanted
“Don’t worry; I am here when you need”
I am here.
But not when you need
I am here.
When you don’t want me at all
I will suck happiness out of you
with my rants and complains
about life, world and everything in between.
I will shower all my sorrow over you,
“You can’t help me” I challenge
and make a hole in your ego,
I will tire you,
I will make you suffer
I will make you beg again.

So when mother says
not to talk with strangers,
you should always listen
for she meant strangers like me.

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The Stroll

The sun was slowly setting down, with orange flames scattered in the western sky making it look like it had caught the fire. The small village set in a valley some 20 kilometers from the town also seemed as if it had caught fire because of the reddish-orange bricked paved houses with tiled roofs and roads.

All the inhabitants were readying themselves to call it a day when she entered the village as slowly and swiftly as she could. She wandered through the streets, the alleys and the boulevards aimlessly. Wearing a tank-top, a pair of trousers and a jacket, she wasn’t appropriately dressed according to many people. Her hair was flying with the wind, and her skin was tanned enough to be mistaken for a ghost.

She was oblivious to the glares and stares from the people there. She couldn’t hear the comments being passed on by old women and young boys alike. She was living in her own world while walking on the real one. Her eyes looked distant and so was her mind. And her legs seemed to be guided by a soul that wasn’t hers. Something was definitely cooking up in her mind. She would laugh out loud without any reason or frown within fragment of seconds. She would then again smile remembering something as if those streets and the alleys and the boulevards had memories in store for her even if she was there for the first time.

She didn’t look at the people. Instead, little things lying in the street caught her attention. In between her wandering mind and legs, she would stare at a piece of stone or a dead rat. And every time the breeze blew pass over her, she would stay still and take it all in. Also, time and again, she would watch the sun going down and the orange turning into red in the heaven. And during those very brief moments, when she would come out of her world, something flickered in her face – her face glowed somehow.

After wandering off for hours, she finally left the village as swiftly as she had come in. Nobody noticed her leaving but after she was gone, everyone felt as if they had changed somehow. Nobody said a word to each other, but talked to themselves about this strange girl who stumbled upon their village one day and changed them completely.