Borges said, in an interview, that it is pointless to find new metaphors, similes.

Life is always going to be a dream, it won’t suddenly turn into a metro train. I look at the closed library and think. Faces of my classmates suddenly flash.  Awkward smiles, shrill voices and reluctant kisses. And, a closed library. Will these stairs take me higher? These days spent at the university are better than those afternoons in school. Sometimes, on a rain washed morning, the smell of a stale tiffin suddenly takes me downward. And the school. The playground. Prayer meeting.

The grass remains green. This sunlight is drowning my memories.

Life is being pulled down.