A reassuring ode, a declaration of love for my Mona. A story sentiment for the 18 years of ups and downs and highs and lows. Experience it in your own space. For anyone who you've accepted as they are, in the moment, in flux, growing, changing, evolving but, always yours.

haan kar chuka
tum jaisi bhi ho 
jo bhi ho 
meri ho 
tum hi ho 

chalti raho chahe thak jao chahe rasta bhi saaf na ho akeeli nahin ho main saath hoon khamosh hoon, lekin paas hoon
chahe koi kuch bhi kahe tum meri ho jo baatein bhi dil mein hon tumhare jaanu hoon main meri hi ho tum hi ho
tum ko shak ho khud par ya hum par chahe jo bhi ho main saath hoon mushkil lamhe hoon ya khamosh raatein ye sab hum ne saath guzaara hai aur hum phir bhi yahaan hain
tum ne jitne bhi hon sawaal chhupaye koshish karo phir bhi jawab na ban paaye ya phir koi waswasa sar mein samaaye aaj main abhi main sab theek hai jo bhi ho tum meri hi ho 

haan kar chuka tum hi ho
haan kar chuka 
tum jaisi bhi ho 
jo bhi ho 
meri ho 
tum hi ho

Tum Meri Ho

Light Leaks: Uncanny stories from the dark end of the tunnel.
This series of short monologues take place at the edge of trauma, death, loss, or despair.

The fifth one is called Dead Air.

...oh.  oh crap... what the...

so that’s what a sandwich to the windpipe feels like!

No one panic. I’m not dead.

I mean, yet.

but for a second, I saw it.

the light. the tunnel.

except it was just the blinking red “ON AIR” sign reflecting in the glass.

funny thing is… I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes.

and thank god, honestly.

I’ve heard it already.

I’ve told it already.

millions of times.

with punchlines.

what I did see —

was the waveform.

on the monitor.

flatlining.

dead air.

just silence.

like the world took a breath... and forgot to let it out.

and god help me, it felt good.

no calls.

no producers waving.

no hot takes waiting like loose teeth in my mouth.

just me.

sitting.

chewing on my mortality.

and not performing.

I think—

I think I felt alive for the first time in that moment where I thought I was about to not be.

and isn’t that something?

after all these years —

all these segments

and arguments

and bits

and brand deals

and viral clips —

I find out the most honest thing I ever gave anyone...

was nothing.

no opinions.

no push.

no me against you.

just...

me.

quiet.

maybe that’s all I ever needed to be.

not right.

not loud.

just still.

just… present.

dead air.

and I came alive.



next time I almost die... remind me to eat off air.


Dead Air

No, you don’t get a vote. Not if the deepest green isn’t the color of your passport, no you don’t! No, just plain no! You don’t get to voice your opinions. Sit out the arena and just comment on the millions who have no choice had the choice or made their own to stay when you ratted them out and ran out  all the way for all the money and the moonshine.
No you don’t. No no no no! You don’t get to call yourself ‘Enlightened ‘or ‘Moderate’. When all you want is just the sanitary sanity in the name of the dual nationality you enjoy all the perks of selling out and raising your children on the outside.
No you don’t. No not your money not your worldly experience,  no not your travels and the stories and the billions in saved taxes, no not high fashion not the coffee and bagels. 
No it’s not making an ounce of a difference who’s daughter you are or who’s son you are not or what you married into or what comes out of your mouth just plain No. All that jazz will not take this place, make this place what it could be what it’s supposed to be a safe haven for all who believe.
So shut up already. You don’t get to vote. You go back to driving that cab of yours or go suck on that careers of yours and keep on trying to mould your kids into what you think gave you legs to ran away from the truth when you were young. 
Wait a li’l while I check up on what your brood is tweeting. You’d be surprised in more ways than one. Because your sons are going queer and your daughters are whoring around right under your nose. No you don’t get a voice there either. Here, here’s that duct tape that your tweets and your updates need. What you are plowing is what you put in as seed.
No no no no. No you don’t get a say in what comes or goes our way if you don’t have the strength to stay and make your way the way we’ve made it through staying true. No you don’t get a vote if you don’t believe what you say and say what you do no you don’t.
Go back to your lie of a lifestyle and your occasional reality checks.
No you don’t get a vote or a say. 
The ones who turn this place around are the ones who decided to stay.


Dead Air

abuaarib

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