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Dear All


I hope that you all are doing well. You all must be accumulating your scattered
strength and trying to do what you think is better or makes you feel better for
you.
I know it’s been a while, I haven’t written to you, writing has come hard to me.
But writing to you and accumulating me is all I can do. I know accumulating
oneself has become so diverse these days; still it feels that everything is
dispersed. Every single part of yours becomes so worthy yet so worthless.
It seems like I have been locked myself in a room without any lock in this
lockdown. Sometimes, to search for the key I go outside of the room but can’t
find the key. Does the key ever exist? A lock without a key, solidarity without
unity. I guess I am getting old. I get tired so easily and it is increasing each day
after day. I lose my strength and sit on the staircase. From there, I move my eyes
as far as I can. I don’t even know what I am searching for. But my eyes might
know what they are waiting for. I think I have become a honey bee. Doesn’t
matter how far my buzzing eyes roam this city. The pillars, the rods, the structure
make sure to realize me, my captivity.
I hope you must be searching for something too. How have you found those roads
that will turn me into you? How far have you reached? Is it too far from my
street? How could I locate you in this city? Please pardon my strength; I am just a
honey bee.

I wonder about those flowers outside this window, will they still have those
nectar that I need. Didn’t they get dry this summer? I hope not, they are
Aparjita(undefeatable) after all. I haven’t seen any birds at my window. I guess
they don’t prefer to come down here on this infected ground.
But yesterday, a moth came at my window. His eyes were in search too. I ask him
to sit and talk to me a little bit. He was telling me how he flew towards the source

of light. I asked him, so why did he come to me, did he see me as a source of light
too. He replied, it is better to talk on the roof. I climb up all these stairs with him
and rather to answer me, he leaves me with a clue.

I have been drifting endlessly. People have started noticing us a lot lately. Until
yesterday we were insignificant and sometimes feared. Some said we were
made of sawdust. Our presence is materialized from/with dust. What color and
what shape is my dust? Can the disoriented give direction?

‘Observe the hollow bodies they might answer you.’


I start finding without wasting much time. It seems like my hallucination had
started to decline. I climb up more towards the sky. I just can’t find any, I don’t
know why. On the top of my rooftop. I have two water tanks. They were feeling
lonely as me so I painted them. I guess with all the anxieties, helplessness, wants
and needs. There is some part of me that wants to be visible within its invisibility.
I want people to notice me and talk about what they have seen, whenever they
see it from their rooftops. Nowadays, they come here to share what they have. I
want to be visible within their curious stares and queries. This way, I might also
travel not only within but from one roof to another.
To travel is what is constant in my thoughts. They carry me further and won’t let
me forget. At the end of the journey I left with a screenshot. Oh! Wait, there is an
image my brother has spotted. This image is not of the door in the middle of the
road. But what he found is an escape through a peephole. I asked him why he
captured that image; he told me ‘he doesn’t know how it travelled in his mind. He
thought to click it because it was one of its kind’.
I think I have found those hollow bodies. I have nothing to give them except the
emptiness that we all carry. I followed the traces and they gave me direction. The

sawdust that connects us is the proof of our participation. The dust is still carrying
me further from this city, lifting me higher and higher up in the sky. Suggesting
watching Polaris at night, I won’t feel my captivity. Polaris we both are still and far
away but I came all the way up to see you because I can’t see you from my
staircase. Moth is gone but the dust remains, I know because I found it on my bed
sheet as stains.


I hope you travelled with me. I can only take you into my thoughts. I hope to see
you soon until then please don’t forget. I wish that I could have more time to
decorate on that window frame. I wish the time I spend with you all can be
recalled once again.


Yours buzzing bee
Swati

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