Lahore ki ek fever zada sham

So it is still there, this strange numb throbbing in the soul almost like it has an outer source from where it resonates and then sends out scintillating vibes to the peripheries so that the two are in unison at all times. My whole being speaks now. It has a language comprised of words, a spiral of words connected around something new, like lyrics from a song without a particular composition, yet having its own melody that i can hum to, nod my head to, tap my foot to. Something I can smile to and cry to.

The throbbing is not without its pain. Hurt underlies, not too deeply buried, but not quite on the surface yet. But present enough to announce itself and let itself be felt - even at this level where it is not too persistent and obvious, it hurts like hell - makes me wonder if i will i be able to swallow it? Will I be whole again or will I exist in pieces. I have existed in pieces before, it is not something entirely unknown to me.

Perhaps, this is all delusional thinking due to my fever, but here i am burning with desire and a virus of sorts - perhaps for others it is an ordinary lahore ki shaam just beginning to pick up pace as the night sets in. My respite is in the more pensive, quiet embrace of Lahore, for me it’s no ordinary dusk, as the skies deepen, all else around me is dark.