Deprived

 Being deprived just because

There were two of your kind already

And only a boy would fit the match.

What do we do?

What do we do of

the social butterfly turned

a bed hog?

I mean can you even imagine being cocooned under adverse social habit where the physical is incarcerated within dull & monotonous walls and yet the moods decide to haywire between extreme polar. 

Confused the social butterfly,

Tired the bed hog.

A Story

        If I were to write a story, I'd probably include the frequent scooter rides to Durtlang. It has been years now since I've been commuting back and forth DDK, dissecting the city with such long rides. Be it sunny, rainy or cloudy, each second I took driving usually had me thinking about a whole lot of everything. Coming back is a whole different story too. I don't know if it's just me but I find such satisfaction staring into the twinkling city lights below. 

        This specific evening, as I drove myself home from the rather cold Leitan breeze, like a moth drawn towards the warm city lights, I thought it would be fun to monitor how much time it took me to reach home. Suppose point A is DDK, point B home, then the amount of time taken (t) by variable x (me) is directly proportional to weather condition, traffic jam and my mood. You see, usually in the old normal, it took me atleast 30-40mins for x to reach from point A to point B and vice versa. But this fateful evening amidst partial lockdown, it took me just 20mins. Boy, the city was empty, kinda scary driving through the pitch black foggy Durtlang slopes, just 1 vehicle in sight, just 1 scooter down Chaltlang, much to my relief, Chanmari greeted me with the warmth of some neighbourhood fried chicken aroma, the warmth of Dawrpui streetlights atop the railings offered quite a comfort too. I remembered the area around Gandhi's statue lacked proper lighting, just after I ran past the flickering Baskin Robbin's outlight. Creepy. 

        Well, I considered myself home at the sight of Aijal Club, that familiar pinkish Bloom Beauty Pro. banner at its side always gives me the necessary assurance that I have reached my locality safe. And yes, this is just an account of one evening, I have a whole lot more tale to deliver, but atlas it's 2:00am, the rain is brewing and I need to tend to my farm, which farm you might ask? Well, the android game called Hay Day, with which I have formed an addictive bond with since summer of 2016.

Hello boredom

The ordinariness of boring in 
The new normal is weirdly exhausting. 
Of tried anticipation and overburdened wait,
The sloppiness of time,
The unraveled web of calm and chaos
All brewed together in one shabby little vessel,
Carelessly monitored through sleepless nights 
And unsteady mornings. 
Ugghh!!! Hello boredom
My old friend!

Continuation . . .

        Lockdown, curfew, pandemic - too familiar a word within a year's span, when it was only yesteryear I complained about being too engaged with stuffs. The irony of unprecedented events which on the bright side has ushered me yet again how beautiful the church, mizo formals and sunsets are.

Obvious

Stating the obvious
On this obvious day
To that obvious person
So obvious!!!

A Cup of Tea

        A cup of Tea ☕ can calm you down, comfort you and help you sleep at night. "There is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea" said Emerson. Tea is hot, smells good and cheers you up. "Where there's tea, there's hope" they say. Tea can even break your loneliness and boost your endurance. You can have tea any time and never get fed up. Yes! A cup of tea makes everything better. Will you be my cup of tea?

The Dream

         I saw you today. You were looking fine, well primped from head to toe. I observed how much you have grown and matured. I stared at you almost like a mother watching her little boy at his first day of school, I was proud of you. I wanted to steal just a few seconds to tell you how much you meant to me, perhaps tell you how much I love you. But then I realised that I no longer have the authority over any of your time. So, I just slipped away from your presence. Sometimes I wished your young heart would understand the passions of an adult felt for another. 

        Last night, I had a dream. I dreamt of you. I wanted to tell you about my dream. I saw you in a hospital bed. You were severely wounded. You could barely talk. I cried seeing you like that. I knew you had your own family to tend to your needs, and therefore I hesitated, but not for long.  Years of taking care of you had triggered in me the need to walk up to you. I held your right hand, the winter air had done it much cold. Your tired eyes woke up. You look at me, I held my tears back. I asked you how you felt and your eyes replied that you were happy to see me. I was, too. From then, the visit to the hospital became a regular. I was addicted to your daily progress. I loved every moment spent with you. You had this thing about you that I loved so much and wanted to tell you, but I guessed you already figured it out too. The day came when the doctors said you were ready to leave the hospital, I was proud and happy for you. That last visit, I gave you a hug. It was the last hug. That day, you left the hospital and returned to your wife and son. I cried watching how beautiful a family you all made.

        “Knock! Knock!” I woke up to the sound of the door. I heard dad’s voice calling me for breakfast. I got up remembering the dream. I wish I could freeze that moment when I last hugged you. I knew it was just a dream, but it felt real, it felt warm. And when I saw you today, I  thought to myself, “there goes my dream!”

The Undone Shoelace

        It was a cold and busy December evening of one fine day. The second hand had already taken a few tick tocks round the watch when we could finally manage to steal a room to safely park the scooter. Everybody and everything else were so ordinarily busy in their own ordinary way. We had ourselves stand at the red-checkered pavement watching the lights flicker away as the traffic slowly swayed across us. And right at that moment when my emotions were least vulnerable, my heart felt his humble warmth as he stooped down to his knees just to fix my undone shoelace.

Songs

 Why songs are powerful?

They help you re-create the perfect moments in your life, remind you the love and the pain you've gone through and how you've overcome all. It soothes your melancholy all in the while embracing it. It gives you freedom so you can close your eyes and run to any person you ever wanted in this world.

I Tried

I tried to be there for you
But you closed the door on me
We're adults now
I won't knock

The Script

We run our lives scripted
The author always
Too careful to take risk
Always too safe.

Nestling

Nestling in the shelter of our homes
We stay indoors in the safety our own little domes.
        Each to their family,
        Each with their own strategy.
This time it’s neither a choice nor an option
But a necessity, drilled with all precaution.
 
Tangling in the between of panic and fear
We slowly dismiss the activities of the year.
          Each to their affair,
          Each at their own care.
We dread for places where the virus might nest
And never a time do we put our worries at rest.
 
In all its oddness somehow the pandemic
Blanket us with the warmth of kin fabric.
          Each bond rejuvenating,
          Each secured to a closer ring.
And just when we thought the virus infects
We anchored towards a deeper connect.
 
As the human race nestles and pauses to heal
We pour out our wholehearted ordeals.
          Each to their conveyers,
          Each in their own prayers.
And here from the comfort of our nestling hearts
We dream forward to a steady restart.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂

The Waste Land, “April is the cruellest month.”
The thought has been stuck in my head for a while now
As I sit reminiscing your presence beside me
Thinking back to days when I once held your hands.

Suddenly yesterday became a distant memory
With new lockdown rules hurling in papers,
Nevertheless the heart continues to journey with hope
Yearning for better days to thread along.

The mind is indeed a beautiful playground
Where treasured moments replay in repeated loops.
And yet my isolated being remains restless over
Our last “see you tomorrow” that never came.

How do we love in the time of Coronavirus?
With these thoughts I close my tired eyes
And make believe that when all this is over
I shall love you even more.

Little Girl

Little girl seems distant and silent
Things are not as they used to be
No more school, no more tea party
All “Closed until further notice.”

Little girl is left with no other choice
Her mom warned, “Children are not allowed to go out.”
Cut off from the mini schedules of her daily routine
She plays along the ‘hide and seek’ of the world.

Little girl does not quite understand
Why she has to stay indoors and never come out.
She vaguely understands the mysterious virus
More so the global pandemic looming at large.

Little girl now wonders what this virus might be
She imagined, “Coronavirus must be like a dragonfly
And Oh! Golden in color,” she added.
Her mother only smiled to her innocent remark.

Little girl has her own way of seeing things
While the adults around her worry and fret
She basks in the moment of her own imaginative world
As being haunted by giant golden dragonflies.

The New Normal

Radiant earth, a surrogate mother

Unaware, of what it nurtures

Covid-19, the foster child

An imposter, spreading wild

Like giant tsunami, chaotic

In a muddle, the world panics

Uncertain times, a new normal

Playing havoc, with everything formal.

 

Yes! The new normal, a new adjust

Global pandemic, a new construct

To shake a hand, a new taboo

Wear a mask, a new must do

The siren wails, the night curfew

Empty streets, the city view

Wash your hands, a key resistance

One golden rule, ‘Social distance.’

Times Like These

Times like these when we are caught

In a whirlpool of uncertainty and fear

How do you brace this unexpected gloom?

Are you safe? Are you equipped? 

                Times like these when we are caught

                In a whirlpool of staying in and cutting off

                How are you holding up?

                Are you okay? Are you secured? 

Our concerns ever provoked by rising figures

Tracking progression as if an exponential math 

Unprecedented crisis we curse with dread

What is this that we are terrified of?

                Says it wears a crown but do we

                In all majesty bow down to it

                Like a king? Spike as they appear

                We take cover, in fear of its fatal stab.

While mankind stresses over this alien encounter

They say, “Mother earth is healing”

From the remnants of ever human greed

Is this not the silver lining?

                As the rivers clear and the sky retains its blue

                Nature wraps us with its gracious stealth

                A timely pause, each endless grind overhauled

                Are you not healing too?