In our house,
We are taught to scream.
Scream and shout,
And let it all out.
My mother calls us coconuts if we don’t.
In our house,
We are taught to scream,
Because if you don’t,
You’d be screaming on the top of your lungs,
Having had a nightmare,
About a pumpkin emoji wanting to carve your eyes out,
As you carved his on Halloween.
And so my parents taught us to scream.
We scream when we see creatures approaching us with a smile on their face and daggers behind their backs,
Only this time the scream sounds more like a squeaky laughter,
So we don’t give it an idea that we are on to them.
We scream when a creamy dessert set on fire is brought to surprise us on midnights,
Of the days we first cried on this planet,
But this time the scream is muffled with the off-tune voices of people singing songs.
We scream when the words hanging in the air are too light to fall down,
And gravity doesn’t seem to work on it either.
We scream when our opinions clash,
And killing someone is still a criminal offence,
We scream to let the devil inside our heads get his orgasmic release,
Because God forbid if he doesn’t get that,
He’d make sure to camp out in our brain,
Light a fire to keep him warm,
Sharpening his knife singing songs that are too harsh for some of us.
We scream at people, things and situations.
Because if we don’t do that,
We’d have a really quiet place to live in.
And a quiet environment isn’t a safe environment,
Because you’ll never know when they come to hunt you down.
– Prajakta Dengale