Would you hear me out?

There is no urge in me to prove a point in any conversation I have. I just want to hear. I want to listen to distorted views, their stories of idleness, of debatable topics, of their overwhelming work, of funny clothes, of childhood Sundays, of them as rock and crumbling under pain, of messy kitchen after super savoury meal, of their insufferable colleague, of their escape sanctuaries- being a part of their emotional rainbow. I want to hear how they tell their stories. I want to hear sigh when they draw breath while talking something painful. I want to hear with the chin on their knees. I want to hear and I want to be heard.

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