the wait and watch

mumbai csia.
to kochi. for my iim-k interview.
in truth another trip wasted, another subsidised iim call taken lightly.
failing to potty train my mind so that it doesnt shit around my brain 24x7 has cost me [or my dad??] some serious damage.
beneficiaries being air india, jet airways, spicejet, kingfisher, indigo.
go air is left.

a lot of images has thread through so far in this 5 day exile from bhopal.
5 day exile from stale mundane food, stagnant office, cold nights, pan stained staircases and girls riding scooties on dusty highways with improvised burkha type wraps that will put the taliban-women cell to shame.

the slum next to my office which preaches rural devp., greeny neem leaves wearing gold as i look at them being sunwashed-from my balcony @ 7am, the latin model in the big hoarding painstakingly exposing her thighs sprawled on a plush sofa so that AXE can get men hoping and buying, the taxi driver who stops midway in NH to ask the guy watering bushes on the median to hose down his car as well-and his leaky door beading which wets my sleeves in the process, the boss-speakers which play instumentals at the mumbai airport, the AMD guy who walks across me in a typical techie look,palming his iphone...

someone who hopes 4 better things when i'm going home..a friend from the mustard fields who defines an emotional spectrum-frequencies with hope n promise n cheer-but bandwidth allocated for future?

the thought of being in a plane to home, the heat and sweat n green and coconut tress n winding aluva puzha striking and filling you as u touch down nedumbassery..

the drive to home is what i like, i dont speak much, but my mind does in syllables of joy.
but i'm still plagued by the sickness of returning. of losing.
i'm in love. with people.
this is one permutation n combination u can't get wrong in life.
i never attempted p n c questions for cat.
i am always bad at that.

unstructured mind signing off with the hope of being hopeful.
of holding the right hands and moving on.


Beast Route

Stalking away in the dark
Preying on my elusive destiny
Stooping fate tempts me
“take a turn back, crossroads ahead”
Lying- complaining
Passing destinations –in search of a fake one.

I pause, to breath.
Broken mirrors reflecting everywhere
Mirages, your past and future;
Condemning the present to a stabbed death.

I breath, to run.
1000 swords drawn
A Question, a life and 998 options.
Chasing in the blackhole of stuffed answers

Shackled, the beast runs,
Chain melting, as flames salsa
With every thought burned
Every alternative charred.