autographs

it’s 2 am

and i’m parked up


imagining scenarios

of a future


where my autographs

become artifacts.


i mean—


i knew it

the whole time.


i’ve been signing

my name

into the future


since nobody

was watching.


before proof.


before applause.


before people realized

what the power of words

translates to

in presence.


till inevitability

becomes inevitable.


but when a fan

asks for an autograph—


will i sign as


tanveer singh


or mr. mak?


will i have lost myself


to what i was warned against?


or will i have transcended

the levels


i was pointing at


when i signed

my first autograph?


till one day


someone walks up to me

holding an artifact


and says—


mr. mak,

can i get your autograph?


— Mr. Mak

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