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.

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”

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”

She left

Today she left.
She kept rambling about how he is never there for her anymore. How he doesn’t have time to go for long walks holding hands and return through the park from the movies talking about a possible sequel. How he doesn’t stare at her like the old days, when once he ran into a pole while chatting with her on the phone. How he doesn’t dance with her under the rain anymore, without paying any heed towards the passersby. How she sacrificed her get-togethers with her girlfriends when they moved out of the city. Enough is enough.
He kept quiet. He didn’t say how horrible are his colleagues and boss. How he isn’t even entitled to a sick leave. How impossible it felt to make the financial ends meet. How humiliated he felt when his parents told him off at a family function for marrying a girl of a different caste. How it felt when he saw the dust and mud of the lawn among which he grew up, for the last time.

Today she left. And he didn’t say a single word. It would make her feel small.