I am no great poet who can weave his feelings into a stitchwork full of life with a pen and the modern form of papyrus. All I can manage to express at this point is that I am dying this day when I leave this world in Mumbai.
I will be born again tomorrow when I wake up in Calcutta. But that would be a re-incarnation.Throughout my entire next life, I will have hazy dreams about several images of this life. They wont haunt me but it would be an eerie, awkward feeling that I would have inside me when I will think of the Mumbai life that I had.I realize this day that I was in trance for the last three years. In a state of coma, numb about the bigger world around me.
Tomorrow I will be born again but somewhere in me, a mark will remain of the dream life I enjoyed. It really feels awkward now.
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