So it's been a looong while since I've put on here things that I've written. Yesterday I had the urge to just write free-flow but nothing came, which left me feeling a bit jittery as my fingers were itching to write *anything*. So whilst I mull over how to get the creative juices flowing, I surprisingly have found myself wanting to share something I wrote a few months back... :-). (P.s. more and more I miss the writings of people like Maliha/Nur al Layl, Umm Wafi ;-) and others).
We jump through the maddening crowds, angry outbursts from the flocks of people falling behind us, our hearts beating fast, adrenaline making us giddy, and for a moment our hands brush innocently, as we slow down to run single file through a narrow alley. We run through naked streets, trying to bypass open gutters, the stench hitting our nostrils, the wind blowing through our hair, drawing wetness to our eyes as we urge ourselves on, as if the ghosts of our pasts are at the ends of our heels.
We come upon another market square and we weave our way through this new crowd, scattering people in our wake. For a moment we lose sight of each other, and we search between the arms and legs of the market crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar form, panic rising in our throats. We finally stagger through another alley, looking in to open doorways as we give chase to our childish dreams.
Up ahead, riot police, batons and shields weighing heavy in their grasps. We split, running through wild streets, and later, as the streets converge on to an open market, we meet again by chance and I catch your eye. And I see your heart beat still as you realise, no longer wanting to dart away, all alone, that perhaps our meeting is more than just mere chance.
Maybe this is what happens when you careen through furious crowds; they part, making you collide unto one another.
And as we grow tired, our smiles say that which we are unwilling to acknowledge openly, and we decide to surrender to fate, and walk side by side to places of quietude.