Devala-Malegaon

The night I would now speak more often, I talk about death here. At a somewhat sixties speed, on a road packed with supply trucks, I decided not to sleep. In the pitch dark, I saw death knocking. If it had been some truck ahead, or wouldn't have hit the tree off-road, we would have taken turns and thereafter only stories. I believe it wasn't supposed to be, I believed not in fear of death but in living so, it's not a nightmare where my mom comforted me afterwards, it was a moment which supposed to be. I hold on to the rear seat, not to be thrown out of it, legs down, it takes swift turns just the one in the mobile games, I suppose it wasn't meant to be, the passers-by were sure of casualty, villagers rushed, all for a minute stopped on the track, the trucks, bikes, autos, buses likewise where they are. I am out now, less aware of the items I carried, I am out and it was supposed to be. Devala-Malegaon, Solapur-Dhule National Highway. I wished for maps to work, calls to be connected, people to comfort and passersby to stop for a while. I trusted the one in Shirdi, I was supposed to be there, I believe he's the only one, 

To all the bright places