Let's Go to the Heart

Last night, I wandered through the dream-stitched land,
a vagabond tracing the veins of a solitary street.
And you—you asked me, "Where are you going?"

I whispered, "Where silence cradles the air,
where no footstep echoes, no shadow lingers—
perhaps along the path of Kherai Thansali."

You laughed, "You dwell too much in dreams!"
I replied, "Dreams are the dyes of life—
without them, the world fades to gray."

You sighed, "How archaic you are!"
"Why?" I asked.

"Last night, I dreamt of Dubai," you said,
its skyline blazing like a diamond spine.
I murmured, "But can towers touch the sky
as deeply as roots delve the earth?
How far can you walk in a land without heartbeats?"

"You speak in riddles," you sighed.
I smiled. "Another name for riddle is love.
To open the heart’s hushed language,
to speak in the silence between stars—
that is how gallant lovers breathe."

First, the heartbeat.
Then—the world.

Footnotes:

'Kherai Thansali' is a small street's name of a village...situated nearby Rangia town of Assam.