A stranger behind the screen,
Instilled in me, a dream.
Not to reach the moon,
Not to ride the storm.

But,
To stand among a crowd,
And feel the rain pour-down.
While a million lives appeared,
On each drop upside-down.

The speeding trains hadn’t changed,
But the stalls beneath spoke less.
Had the indices lied? ‘Cause,
It wasn’t same as the fine reels.

A dozen images flashing per second.
Striking neons bled through the lens.
Pouring raindrops offered me a cold-kiss,
The blurry palette had put me in a dream.

- Aadil Varsh