The Call

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I’m calling you at 2 a.m., kid,
drunk on the wine of all the years I gave away.
Listen close, the signal keeps breaking up
between who you are and what they’ll make of you.

Stop being the candle that burns itself to nothing
just so everyone else can read their books.
Stop being the well that everyone draws from, but never refills.
I know they taught you that love means
shrinking, folding yourself into the shape
of whatever space they leave for you.

But here’s the thing nobody told us.
You can bleed out quietly and call it kindness.
Evaporating like a river redirected so many times that it forgets its own source.
You can disappear one “yes” at a time
and call it goodness.
And the world will thank you for it
at your own funeral.

So with heavy heart I implore you,
To be the hand that holds itself sometimes.
Be the door that doesn’t always open.
Not because you stopped loving,
God, don’t stop loving,
but because I’m standing here
at the wreckage of every bridge I built
for people who drove across
and never looked back,
and kid,
I’m still hungry.
I’m still the candle.
I’m still waiting for someone to ask
how I am.

Nobody’s picking up.
So I called you.

Walking Toward You

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We’ll meet one day,
not as enemies sworn since birth,
but as two old companions
who were always walking toward each other
from opposite ends of the same road.

You’ve been patient, Death, I’ll give you that.
You never rush,
never knock too loudly.
You wait at the edge of rooms,
leaning against the wall of time
like someone who knows
their turn will come.

Between now and then
I will die many times.

Not the loud death
with fire and mourning,
the quieter kinds
you understand best.

The death of a dream
when it is folded carefully
and placed inside responsibility.

The death that happens
under office lights at 9 am.,
when a person trades the wild sky
for spreadsheets and routine,
and a small bird inside the chest
stops singing.

The death of the poet
who stopped writing
because bills are louder than rhymes.

The death that comes
when you learn to be practical.

Friendships die too.
Not with explosions,
but with silence.
A message left unread.
A call postponed.
Two people waiting for the other
to care first.

And some die
because a stranger whispers poison
into familiar ears,
someone who arrived yesterday
somehow rewrites aeons of love
in a single afternoon.

Families break this way.
Not like earthquakes.
More like slow rot in the wood.

And sometimes the death begins early,
when parents try to live their lost dreams
through their children’s lives,
then later swear
it never happened.

That kind of death
leaves no grave.
Just an empty chair
in the house of memory.
You watch people leave
one by one,
friends, dreams, versions of yourself,
until your chest becomes
a quiet cemetery
where laughter once lived.


You know this well,
don’t you?
You’ve been counting.
Yet I keep walking.
Through the small funerals of living,
through abandoned hopes
and half-healed rooms of the heart.

But when we finally meet,
you and I,
I hope, even after all these small deaths,
you still find me alive.

Towards the Apex

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From the peak’s edge, along the mountain’s side,
I gaze upon distant trees, mere blades of grass; people, but tiny children.
The weight of all else is but dust upon my nail; who even casts a glance my way?
Yet, my motion ceased, abrupt and stark.

My heart’s thrum, a frantic drum, pulsed through my very breath, a tremor racing to my fingertips.
Am I truly so high?
The stone beneath my feet yielded like shifting sand, and the violent shudder of my hands wore away the very rock held fast between my fingers.
A deep sigh’s wind, stirring dust, cemented my unease. It whispered truths of my fleeting form.

In the tear-stained mirror, the nightmare of the final climb surfaced.
Driven by a fierce need to prove, to offer some reply, I had scaled an impassable wall, my body wracked with pain.
But as I rested by its edge, when the cold wind brushed my feet, an inner whisper urged me to plunge.
Let all be done, let the taunts of expectation fade from my ears.
Let this unwanted rise, against my will, finally cease.

But I did not heed that counsel.
Life is but motion.

Today, as the mountain’s crown lies within my sight,
I grant my body no quarter, begging for the last surge of strength to push forward, bound by a quiet vow.
When my turn arrives, I shall not forget to ask my very blood if it truly yearns to ascend the mountain of another’s hopes.

I Forgive You

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I forgive you.

From within the cage built by your ancestors,
When the heat of your expectations fell upon me,
You thought I would shine.
But you, too, felt the burn of the iron, didn’t you?

Human praise is a divine addiction,
For two hundred thousand years, you haven’t escaped that prison.
You bathed in the admiration of my scorched skin’s brilliance,
Thinking my wounds would become a proud armor, spreading that radiance across the world.
But you never saw the pain of the wounds.

Yet, I forgive you.

Because amidst my silent screams, I noticed your hidden scars.
The burnt scent of which enlightened someone else’s world, millennia ago,
And shackled your very soul.
The lament that today, as hot steam, has scorched everything around.

So I promise,
The cycle of burning, the chain of shackles, ends today with this new sun.
Let futile praise vanish into the darkness of envy from today.

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The Mourning Oracle

I am cursed with premonition’s eye,
Foreseeing famines before the leaves fall dry, Droughts before the rivers cease to cry,
Dooms cloaked as promises, tears before they fly.

I wish the world could make the world unturn.

My voice drowned in ceaseless cries, a solemn hue, My mind torn by dread that brews,
Ignored by those who thought my pleas were false and few.

I wonder if Frederick, as Titanic sank,
Felt the chill of foreseen rank,
Or if Cassandra, in Troy’s proud bank,
Felt the sting of truth and scorn’s cruel prank.
Did strangers weep for their efforts’ plight,
Or judge their warnings, blind to the night,
Mistaking them for cries of wolf,
While past bites bled, veiled from sight?

The cursed, like me, watch ships go down,
Their cries lost to waves, their tears a crown,
As loved ones vanish without a sound,
And solitude becomes their only ground.

My curse is my only claim,
A solitary journey, unclaimed fame,
Yet for love’s sake, I wish for them:
May their pride in rejecting a child’s correction,
Be greater than the pain of their own misdirection.
May their delusions bring them peace,
And let their nights find sweet release.
Let the echoes of truth fade away in the dark,
Unheeded and distant, like a forgotten mark.

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Standing Tall

Today, I realized,
It’s been long since I danced to the gushes of wind of the fall,
Long since I sang to the birds that nest in my branches,
I was too busy giving shade to the passersby who ate seeds and littered my feet with plastic wrappers.

You see, I was a seed once, too, and then a sapling,
I looked up and gazed at Ma, who used to filter the sun so that it was just enough for us saplings.
She sang to us that it would be our noble duty one day to welcome everyone in our leafy arms when we would be as old as her.
The birds cheered to her songs while the squeaky squirrels added to the chorus.
She danced with the storm’s gusty winds, through pouring rain, and even when the sun shone bright.
But she sang it one last time and soon forgot about us.
She became busy looking after the guests that sat among us.
Giving them shelter even when they scribbled painful wounds on her skin.
Today, I realized I had forgotten to sing, too.


Ma thought her leafy canopy was insufficient, and her concern made it difficult for her leaves to stick to her, depleting her shade.
This vicious cycle made the birds concerned, the squirrels alarmed, and the strangers left gradually.
The birds requested a song from her again, thinking it might bring her back, but they couldn’t chirp through her self-contempt.
Soon, a day came when the winds proved too strong for her, and she bent down, never to rise up again.
The birds flew away, the squirrels fled, and the strangers returned.
With her last remaining breath, she tried to sing a song again, I tried to sing along with my shaking voice, but it got masked with the sound of her carcass getting dragged away.

I am as tall as Ma now. My canopy shelters the whole park. But just like Ma, I am not confident with my branches anymore. The strangers came and scratched on me the same, but I grew more concerned about whether my shadow was enough for them. It is my duty. I try to look at my sibling for songs of encouragement, but today, I realized, she got plucked away by a stranger for having flowers too beautiful. I wish she helped me add to my canopy on the days when I couldn’t.

So, I turned back to my birds, who have been waiting for my songs for centuries. To my squirrels, who value how much I care about sheltering their food. And I tried to sing. I had forgotten the words, but they reminded me and sang along. The winds vibed with my melodious branches as the rain washed away my sins. My leaves started growing again.

Strangers will come and go. They will hurt you when you shelter them. Curse you when you sing to them. Drag you through the ground when you need help. And you must keep offering them a haven from the sun’s rays. It’s your duty. But if you want to live, you turn back to your family and sing, and they’ll sing along with you.

So, today, I realized,
You can’t really forget to sing,
Unless you want to.

The Deal

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It wasn’t a normal day, I had had enough.
If my eyes shifted just an arc more, my own breath I would have snuffed.
The world had jumped in the toilet with its bleeding hand reaching for the flush.
Thoughts were pouring through me like shoppers on a sale spree, I just couldn’t handle the rush.
My brain screaming for help, blood boiling thorough the skull window, with my final gasp I called,
“Hear me, the Greatest Dealer ever, I think I’ve seen it all! ”

 

Continue reading “The Deal” →

Immortal

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Once there were a man and his friend, who lived in the happiest of towns,
But stories of their selfish deeds made the townies always frown.
They didn’t care for a single soul, all of their promises were fake,
You’ll never hear a single tale of them helping, even by mistake.
So when the people faced any of them, clear they used to steer,
The man and his friend lived alone at a desolate house for years.

One day a dark shade loomed over the town, all the smiles faded so soon.
The river flowing down the hill turned vile, which was once a boon.
People turned black and blue with one sip of the poison,
They left the mortal world in pain before the sun rose in the horizon.
The wealthy left the town, with the less fortunate standing helpless,
They accepted their fate and coldly counted down their days.

The man and his friend went up the hill in search of water fresh,
They planned to bring and sell them at a cost of an arm and leg.
Climbing up through the forest, they met an unknown voyager,
They asked him of his purpose here, he said he’s here to win a wager.
He told them he’s there to find the mythical elixir of life,
You take one sip of it, and for a hundred years you’ll thrive.

The man and his friend looked at each other, as their eyes glowed with greed,
An opportunity for them to be gods has presented to them indeed.
They befriended the voyager, and asked him for the elixir’s location,
The innocent tourist became thirsty as he shared all the information.
The friend brought cool water for the traveler from the river,
He gulped down the venom, as they waited for the sun to deliver.

They reached the top of the hill following the traveler’s words,
In a cave covered with shrubs they witnessed a world unheard.
They saw a dozen species which are no more heard to survive,
Between some ‘extinct’ twigs, in a pot, there lay the elixir of life.
As agreed before, the exhilarated man gulped down half the pot,
Happy for getting a long life, he overlooked his friend’s plot.

His friend had left the spot before his thoughts allowed him to turn around,
The friend poured the elixir in the river and ran with the pot, right to the town.
He went to every home and offered a sip of the river to every sick person,
So as the sun rose the next day, they saw nobody’s condition had worsened.
Smiles soon returned to the faces of people, it was really a miracle divine,
The man smirked, bowed down to his friend, impressed by his design.

There is an old man far away, whose friend once saved a whole town,
There’s a statue of this friend at the heart , to which all people still bow down.
Tale of this heroic deed went around from ear to ear,
He cared for every single soul when he lived, that’s what they want to hear.
But when people see the man now, they still steer away from him clear,
They say the old man lives alone in a desolate house, and unlike his friend, has lived for a million years.

The Caged Bird

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I had flown under the lintel to avoid the storm’s carnage,
Little did I know, I’d find you there locked in a cage.
“You’re a Robin like me!”, I exclaimed , “We aren’t meant to be confined!”
She gave an discontented smile and replied, “Believe me, I am fine.”
“I am my master’s favourite prize, he boasts of me to guests,
He brings me food whenever I ring this bell, I must be truly blessed.
He saves me by eating the toxic fruits and feeds me the delicious seeds,
He loves me so much that he gets enraged if someone else touches me.”

Continue reading “The Caged Bird” →

Remember me?

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Hey there! Remember me?
I am the one with whom you used to talk everyday!
Our topics were so wild that if any regular person heard us, they would have recommended us a psychiatrist or would have called the police.
I still remember once your dad called you five times during one of our calls and found you busy.
The call back was more like a Vietnam flashback, and you rung me up again to cry your heart out.
And then you posted on the social media: “No one understands me..”

Hey there! Remember me?
I am the one with whom you used to talk everyday, but one day you stopped. Continue reading “Remember me?” →

Joke’s on you

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He always spoke the truth, no matter the consequences,
He hit you hard with facts, you took too many offenses.
You buried him down with haste, to eradicate his mirth,
But the joke’s on you, he was born down to earth.

She had been going places, society’d failed to shackle her down.
“A girl her age out of home? She must be stopped somehow!”
You pushed her off the cliff, your ears longing for her cries,
But the joke’s on you, she was born with wings to fly.

You detest happy young faces, their beams hurt your features gaunt,
You chain down one hand with responsibilities, other one with daunts.
The joke’s on you, my friend, you’ve again failed to foresee,
My soul might be your prisoner, but my mind’s always been free.

Why

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“Why do we like to kick the legs of the chairs we’re sitting on?
Why do we have idle minds from where grisly ideas spawn?
Why, when someone’s down the hole, do we throw a fire and grin?
Why our judgements are deemed noble, but free thinking’s a sin?
Why do we try to grasp the tail of chaos and not let go of it somehow?”
” Because kid, you like doing it, don’t you now?”

” Why do we like to bark about someone behind their backs?
Why do we squeal about other’s flaws, but not ’bout stuff we lack?
Why do we blurt disparage without a filter of conscience? Continue reading “Why” →

I am fine

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Stuck in Sunday eve traffic, you’re getting bored as heck,
You’ve reached the end of your newsfeed, there’s nothing more to check.
A boy walks by, his dirty clothes make you frown,
And then you think “Why should I care? I’m going to the best pizza place in town!”

His shoulders drooping with dejection and not school bag,
The boy’s pants are his dead father’s, his shirt’s a former rag.
No, he doesn’t have a soul in this world to look after him,
His little brother waits in his slum, unbelievably joyous to the brim.
Earlier in the morning he came first in his class,
He was promised by his elder brother that he’ll gift anything he asks.
The innocent little soul doesn’t know how much his brother gets kicked around,
His hungry stomach blurts out “I want the best pizza in town! ”
The boy masked his helplessness with a smile, he showed nothing in front.
One pizza costs more than his salary for an entire month. Continue reading “I am fine” →

The Elephant Who Learned How to Climb

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No one ever asked him what he wanted to be. Ever since his first steps, his father showed him off to his friends and boasted, “Look at his strong legs, he’ll surely be a Climber!”. The Climber. The one that his parents couldn’t be, despite their burning desires.

So when he was supposed to play with his other friends from the jungle, the little elephant was snatched away from the playground and enrolled to a “jumping school”. Specialized teachers like kangaroos and grasshoppers had been enlisted to clear the basics of these little admitted kids. It was their sole responsibility to train them so that they could be ready for the next step, climbing.

The elephant tried hard. Really hard. Animals laughed as he tried to jump with his round belly, balancing himself with his long snout. Tears got mixed with the dirt as he fell on his face everyday. His sobs were masked by the laughter of his classmates. Still he didn’t give up. He did not want to see his parents upset. In a few years he learnt to leap over small shrubs and bushes, which was enough to get him enrolled into the climbing classes. But maybe it was not worth his bleeding tusks.

Climbing classes included more specialized teachers like the bear and the cheetah. They were considered the best, since they had once taught even a goat to reach the top branch of the famous Old Oak at the end of the jungle. Their other accomplished students, the orangutan and the raccoon, had their pictures carved on every tree bark in the jungle. The elephant parents were pleased to see that they had brought their son to the right place. But no one asked him if he wanted to learn it.

Soon the judgement day arrived. Continue reading “The Elephant Who Learned How to Climb” →

Heartburn

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Let me tell you all a story about a girl who once meant the world to me.
And right now, she’s someone who can’t even look at me.
Yeah!

You see, I’m not a toy,
Yeah I did fall for your coy,
But I’m not gonna let you take the joy out of this!
So before you enjoy, like nothing happened, with your homeboy,
Just remember what happened to Troy,
And wait till I completely destroy you.

Rewind to the time when we met at a strange place,
Where people bought glory and bet their souls instead.
Like fish out of water, we fret about what lay ahead.
And then you played that card, I take the hat off my head!
Maybe you schemed for days and said “I need you”,
To a lost boy who’s been ignored since his grade two.
He thought you’ll fit, like two puzzle pieces;
But it turned out you’re the hammer that broke everything in the first place.
You’ve hung on to me for too long like a parasite,
Well, this is my medication, I’m putting up a fight! Continue reading “Heartburn” →

Rise

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You are running on a strenuous road,
Your feet strike a boulder hard.
You fall down, people laugh as if they should,
No one comes to help you out.

The sun will rise again tomorrow,
The stars will shine again tonight.
They will condemn your guts today,
And soon they will hate you for your might.

They never knew how to run, never tried to,
But they know how to mock your grit.
They’ll make you think that you should give up,
Like they did with their empty story, that’s it. Continue reading “Rise” →

The Jar

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“One order fulfilled, one turn of the lid”
I will never forget this phrase, or its variations, for the rest of my short life.

I still remember the day when I opened my eyes and saw that ugly opaque lid above me, the lid of the jar in which I was kept. Looking around, I found that my jar had only four things inside. A bed, a cupboard, me and my thoughts. The last thing was the dearest to me. In my thoughts I could see myself flying above the hills with the birds, occasionally coming down to eat fruits from the trees and drink from the river. In my thoughts I was not a captive of the jar.

Fortunately the walls were transparent, so I gazed outside. There were others, similar to me, but different in every way. All of them dressed the same. Neither did they talk to each other, nor did they seem to think. Those robots seemed to roam around lifelessly in specific paths at specific times.

At first I was least bothered about my situation. The cupboard gave me almost everything I could ever ask for. Books. Pictures. Food. Fancy clothes. But not people. Not freedom. Soon, I longed for someone to talk to me. I longed to see the bright blue sky for once. So one day, I went towards the nearby wall and called out. Continue reading “The Jar” →

Vain Odium

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I’m perched upon the highest branch,
Plucking the fruits of my dreams.
I feel a pull on my leg from down,
Yeah, I see through your schemes.
It took me everything to climb up here,
Which you’ll never have, sonny!
Its my talent that has brought me here,
Not my dad’s money.

My mom and dad weren’t loaded,
They had a thankless life.
Thankless job, anxious bed,
Pills and food in strife.
Yet they never surrendered,
Their tears told me “Fight back, honey! ”
Class is what I got from them,
Not their money. Continue reading “Vain Odium” →

The Flag

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She climbed the mountain as swiftly possible,
Stepping on every helping hand, which turned to dust.
She wanted her name atop the peak
To shine, ego being her only thrust.
Rivers of tears flowed through the ridges,
Empty claps echoed the hollowed hills.
People slowly reduced to dots,
But that never gave her the chills.
She reached her target with time to spare,
It was really something to brag.
But as she turned, she soon realized,
There’s no one to pass the flag.

The Moon On My Wall

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When her “Good morning” doesn’t wake you up,

When her “Goodnight” isn’t what you need.

When your calls go unanswered a lot,

When her comes, you no more pay heed.

You still hangout sometimes, but it is no more fun,

It’s like she can be the moon, but you aren’t her sun.

She glows without you, and you do too,

Your hour long calls have come down to minutes less than two.

Your cries for help go ignored, her words misunderstood,

Her late replies don’t get you angry, her voice doesn’t lighten your mood.

When the urge is no more there, to share the secrets you keep,

When every time she hurts you, the lesser do you weep. Continue reading “The Moon On My Wall” →

The Pen

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And you thought I’ll never pick up the pen, didn’t you?
You’re the only reason the words flowed through my hands?
You’re so wrong, there’s thousands of things that are already messed up,
You’re just a silicon in a world of only SiO2.

Well it’s true that your actions broke me into million pieces.
I still cannot forget what I saw through that window,
You’re the kind of material that a loser popularizes
In his memes, I should have known what you meant by “Let’s take things slow”.
I’m just a nerd and not a rich laid back snob,
I work hard till night in order to get a job.
And yes you were a chapter in my book of life,
But I don’t have a lot of money to throw to make you my wife.
You know they throw money at tramps in some parlors too,
And you thought I’ll never pick up the pen, didn’t you? Continue reading “The Pen” →

The Carver

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Hands bleeding, blood and sweat streaming, he’s done something laudable,
Twenty hours of carving rock in hell, he did the impossible.
The ending siren tore through the ears and cried with a shrill,
“Behold! It’s a living stone swan, but yet it stands still”.
The carver gives out a sigh, his smile knows no bounds,
The audience goes crazy, but his rivals don’t make sounds.
The teary eyed winner is taken to the factory owner, who says:
“Congratulations carver! You’ve done the best one, by God’s grace!
Look at all those feathers, they seem ruffled and yet so clean!
The texture, strength and balance, it looks so pristine!
Its eyes have life in them, as if God carved them Himself,
Its elegance is breath-taking, totally top of the shelf!”
The carver can’t hear them, his dream has come true,
He did something that everyone had told him he couldn’t do.
He reached a place similar to where his idols had been ;
Like Shakespeare did with King Lear, and Ronaldo with his feet.
The owner is still in awe, “How many nights didn’t you sleep?”
“How many days did you train?”
“Astounding! Just lay on this bed here,
And we’ll take out your brain.” Continue reading “The Carver” →

I’m done

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“I’m done.

 

I’m done trying to please you, trying to make you look at me.

I’m done trying to change myself into something that I’m not, so that I live up to your expectations, only for you to turn me down again.

 

I’m done looking at his medals and his trophy room.

You know, I had a similar room…in my heart…you were the only trophy there.

Yeah people don’t call me by my name when I walk down the street.

Unlike him I don’t even have a new car;

I can’t boast of you like he does nowadays,

Like you are some kind of a commodity that he won on a science fair.

They said you can’t buy love, but somehow he managed the impossible.

Or did he?

 

If you get the time, ask him what’s the colour of your eyes,

What’s your favourite shade of lipstick,

What’s your favourite kind of fries,

How you get carried away when you listen to old Bollywood songs,

How you became cold hearted when that last guy broke your heart into a million pieces.

I think we both know what his answer will be.

I found warmth in your cold heart by the way,

I mean it’s not fully cold yet…you could have been saved again.

But you chose not to.

 

I know,

 

One day you’ll walk down the aisle,

Your head will be on his chest when you dance.

But you know what,

They will play my songs at your wedding.

People will recognize the artist by my fake name, the name you once suggested I should use to publish anonymously.

Maybe you’ll hide your tears or rub it on his expensive suit.

Knowing you could have been immortal through my words, but you chose to be rich.

I’ll be there you know, to look at you one last time… and let my pain flow through my words…

But till then…

 

I’m done.”

 

-The unsuccessful introvert

 

Continue reading “I’m done” →

Look at me

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Look at me…

You know I’m standing right here,

Down where the ground touches my feet.

You’re high up on the highest branch,

Picking rotting fruits from a dying tree.

While I stand here with a basket of fresh ones,

Asking the squirrels to replace yours quietly.

 

Look at me…

 

You know when this tree was in its youth,

Was the time I was first able to see

You in that golden dress which they admired,

And you silently cried as the rough edges cut your skin.

But your tears couldn’t hide from me.

I know it was late, I should have come early;

The leaves were not as green as before, I see,

Yet they had colour enough to last eternity,

Before they turned brown.

 

Look at me…

 

I helped you make the dress you like,

As the smooth corners healed your sheen.

I picked the flowers myself but told the birds

To give them to you quietly,

Maybe because I wasn’t deigned enough to face you;

Or maybe because they say less of your beauty,

And more of the dresses you wore even if they hurt you,

But you liked my dress a little more;

Still you didn’t know me.

 

Look at me…

 

You know I’m standing right here,

My feet now on the sand in the scorching heat.

I know you feel my presence now, you can’t deny,

My eyes caress your hand now and then,

As they slowly find less tears in them as you turn empty.

You have learned to live with the fake flowers you receive,

You’ve caught the sneaky squirrels who kept you comfortable;

As you find comfort in the stench of dead dreams,

Which prevents the birds from scaling the skies.

 

Look at me…

 

You know I’m still standing here,

My legs bleed as the ants eat through my skin.

They love that odour, and now you live on it,

They killed the squirrels, they killed the birds,

They kill everything that breathes and yet you sit,

Rotting fruits devour your voice.

You don’t need to cry for help, you need only move your lips;

And you do, but not the way I want you to.

You chant their dirge as one of them,

I hold my flowers in hope they ward off the reek.

As the ground swallows me, my insides hurt,

Before I cry your name full of vowels;

As a last chance, so what I’m unworthy?

It’s the last chance for you to look at me…

And you do,

But not the way I want you to…

 

As I perish in peace,

Knowing the truth.

But at least you looked at me…

I wish he would stand forever,

The one and only dying tree.

 

Continue reading “Look at me” →

Are you alive?

“Is this disease the worst”? Medically speaking, maybe not. Statistically speaking, of course not, given the mortality rate. But is our mortality in this society only decided by our heartbeat, respiratory rate, or a pulse?

Try walking down the road again. Of course not in the towns and cities were it is still not permitted. Wear three masks if you have to, have a sanitizer in your pocket and rub your hands with that sticky stuff like the flies do when they find a stale food. Do it after every little thing, walking down the stairs, reaching the Grocery, selecting your essential items, waiting for the Grocer to pay him, and then you realise maybe its the only human contact you have got in months, while handing him over the money. Are you alive?

You have to be. There’s no other choice. You staying alive is necessary for the people who depend on your earning, in this godforsaken state of economy. You cannot show any sign of weakness mentally or physically at all. Hold back that sneeze that has been tingling your nerves for the last seven minutes while you were crawling down your regular street. One single slip from your nose, and that’s it. Familiar shady eyes caressing you from head to toe, known lips humming some strange vile words from beneath the masks of various colours in known, strange voices, and of course, “social distancing” increasing from three, six feet to ten, twelve maybe. Are you alive?

Some people with regular enemies like asthma, allergy, they are just praying silently inside, hoping their bodies won’t betray them in these dark times. Their fight won’t be seen with pity or compassion anymore, but with suspicious, fearful eyes. They are afraid they might face what the British faced against Gandhi. But then again, where are you supposed to retreat from your own home? Are you alive? No we are not. What this disease killed, is the small flickering trust that humans had for each other. No one can be blamed. Like in those zombie movies.

Stay safe people, apocalypse is here. Try not to sneeze.