Things, ideas, people, dreams
Animals, music, art, moments
Food, movies, friendships, romance
Touch us
In places we leave open for them
Pores and micro-pores
That we do not moisturize away
We thirst for them
They water us
But never quenching!
For these pores
They have nerve-endings
That attach to holes
Holes in our souls
Hollow holes like blackholes
That suck and feed
And dissipate things
Reflecting back not even a wink of light
We tend to hold on to these things
Scavenging for matter
To fill the hollowness
We hold on
With a frail appendage we fashion out of need
An appendage like a hen's foot
That hangs out probably from our backs
Our mouths
Or pelvic zones
We set the appendage upto task
While both hands work on the steering
Steering what?
The 'main' matter of existence
The sustenance
The structure
The supposed purpose
The jobs
The somethings, something importants
The smirks of self-satisfaction
Of weighing decently on scale of achievements
And even dreams!
Dreams of proving something
Marking with dark colour-ed pins
The existence of personhood
On the gray map of human history
Of self-aggrandizement
Dreams of even saving the world!
Procuring in process a tax of street-names, awards and newsprint
We steer! We swivel, we turn, we drive!
Our eyes affixed on these goals?
No, our eyes unfixed and grazing
Our eyes throwing fleeting sideway glances
At the passing greens and blues
Our eyes looking backwards
Pining the bygone innocence and littlehood games
Our eyes turning inwards
Witnessing the dirt and chaos
But quickly turning away in cowardice
In cowardice, duplicity and the magnetic heaviness of 'busyness'
Our eyes somewhere, nowhere ...
(Honestly, where are our eyes?)
We set the appendage upto task
It grazes things
Touches them
Is touched
And even beckoned
It, sometimes, picks them up
The things
It holds onto them
But how?
Distracted by the steering
And weakened by the hollowing
It holds them
But halfly
Not owning
Not ingesting
And, but, yet
Not letting go!
Sometimes,
We even marry these things
And have kids with them
And other times,
We keep dreaming
Of marrying these things
One of these things
One day
Some day!
Thus, we flow
Like asynchronous, naively-built toys
And call the freakshow, 'life' and even the 'time of our lives!!'
