Bengaluru calling
Now that the kings have fallen, the queen is rising, Bengaluru calling. The air is dense, the sky is grey, my body tense from the shades of day. Loneliness, the thickness of winter slowly spreading through my body and mind. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know how to be kind.
Waking up in the morning, the mist in the air, meeting her in the kitchen where she's prepared her pumpkin pie, brewing coffee, playing with the dogs, home, my. She makes it home, she shares her home, with me in this time. She creates a warmth we need in this time, washing away my loneliness, the fine. How did you sleep she will want to know every morning, making this a better day than it would have been without her. I hear Bengaluru calling.
Haunted by the rumbling activity of my mind, reminding me of the hardships of life, this darkness of the winter season living through me in the nights. Making me want to sleep through time and yet Bengaluru is calling.
Gathering my assets the challenge is bringing me to the end of my tether. The reality of nothingness finally hitting. The warmth of her house, her heart and her care the only thing holding me these last days. Bengaluru calling.
It's quiet and yet so loud from all the existential fear we feel, the protests, the anger, the rage, the frustration. Our existence challenged, our only hope, ourselves. Our friendship. The ones across the world holding space. The ones I have here. The ones who keeps picking me up and holding me in these last cold winter days. Bengaluru calling.
When the storm of the Kings and their fellow As has ceased, the aftermath of their fear and ignorance for themselves hits. It's a quite, creeping feeling, maybe bringing back history. Old memories. All the stories from the last years peaking in the here and now. Speaking to me. Memories from the past coming as a subtle reminder. Twisting the truth to remain in their power, up on their throne, they remain alone.
Wondering like Halsey what you Kings are doing up there too high up to ever receive that love we humans down here share. This warmth, the kindness and care for each other. This exact warmth I receive every day, having tried to share it with you, bring it to your kingdoms. Your untouchable, cold protected kingdoms. I stop wondering when I finally push the last king off his throne. The king of Bengaluru that would call me only the next day when I had cut him out. The universe is ironic. And Bengaluru calling.
Defying the kings and their subjects, I pull the card and reverse it. The majestic red cape keeping me safe, the beard of the wisdom, supporting my way. My way to the far east, the south, the land of the holy. The land of truth. The land of day and night. Darkness and light. Black and white. Shining bright. Bengaluru calling.
My body wants rest and righteously so. My aching muscles craving the warmth. The tea cattle boiling the entire morning, providing us comfort while the rays of the cold winter sun slowly breaking through the clouds. Bringing some light. Some guidance in this time of confusion while we're holding the space. Bengaluru calling.
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