I carried a basket of mangoes through traffic at night
Found myself in the English countryside
Nothing but silence and wind and a green pasture with sheep
I searched my pockets for money but had none
I walked through a wooden gate   across a small road
Into another pasture with yellow flowers
I feared I’d been hit by a car and died   felt my chest
And my heart still beat   for all I knew
My heart could be eternal   I walked to the highest point of the pasture
A green hill with rocks and yellow flowers   I saw dark clouds
More pastureland and hills before me
I sat against the rocks and picked a yellow flower
Something in me said wait   my internal voice never sounded so determined
I was trying to sell mangoes at night and not succeeding
I walked through the chaos of traffic   saw nothing but headlights
And hated it but loved the feel of a mango in my palm
All I could do was sit with a flower in my hand
Wondering if the clouds would rain on me
Fresh rain on my body suddenly didn’t feel like a punishment
But illumination instead   I was told let the flower go but refused
The wind blew harder but I held the flower tighter by its stem
I felt the beginning of rain and still held on to the flower
I was told stand up and I did without releasing the flower
I was told close your eyes and I did and felt the light darken
When I opened my eyes I was back in Delhi
Standing in the middle of an empty road with the flower in my hand
I ran to the trees that lined the road   looked at the yellow flower
To calm myself   when I got back to my room
I picked up an old book of poems I bought and never read
Placed the flower inside it   shut the book   opened the window
Sat on the floor and watched the sun rise