- Aman Shyamsukha
New Home
Did I ever tell you
that I am a house to a lot of stories
and home to many characters probably you will never see
My mind is a very messed up place to be in
it is fighting and fighting over petty issues
or thinking about work, work, and work
I direct the conversation to the weather report or the current affairs
whenever someone asks me "How are you?" or "What are you thinking?"
I tell stories where it should not have been told
or on the stage that was built in my head
I think about the words every time even with bruises and blood on my hand
Just for the sake of that line to get fine
There are places stacked with sad people
and in those placed I am working 10 hours a day
with characters of EMIs, loans, and rent on my head
screaming harder than my dreams
But god damn it, I am earning revenues that a grown-up person should do
Damn my parents must be so proud
There are words, metaphors, similes, characters all taking me to a trip
Wait, did I tell you that I write poems
sore face, numb eyes
shivering hands, dark sky
~
Next station is Rajiv Chowk
Doors will open on the left
Please mind the gap
~
Suddenly I wake up, shivered
rushing towards that door
but I was writing a poem
haah never mind
there goes my another incomplete "viral" poem
now as I woke up from the dead, I should work for another 10 hours
10 hours on a place which now I call home