Six Hours Of Sleep Is Necessary

But it's terrifying to stay on this planet for the rest eighteen

So I doze off

In the corners of streets I'm walking on

I don't really notice the broken buildings or the lighted shops people rush in and out of

I watch a movie, starting with a single character

The rest I make in my mind, sleeping, weaving my way through it

Mostly, it's the mullah sucking at his ripe pieces of orange, standing by the street vendor selling it

Or the man who drives a bike, with a woman sitting on one side, a baby in the middle, holding on to a plastic toy

But all this while, my mother tells me a story, and I look at her but she knows I'm not listening

She points it out, annoyed

And I say I'm sorry

But as I get down the rickshaw, she tells me to pay and looks around for the shop she has to go to

I look at the rickshaw, the man who drives it, the family he has to go home to, the children who ask for a candy from him

And I doze off

As he asks me for money.