Little Fever

I get on in the bustling feminine crowd
It's huge for a 5 PM-Ghatkopar
A Karjat local can suprise you this way
It is consistently crowded :)
Ah, the consistensies of life!
The crowd is a creature
Irritable and heckling
Pitted deep
Like a silly, child-abused ragdoll
Pitted deep in the belly of this creature
I pause and look at myself
My ghost climbs up the railing
And lies peacefully on it
Unhindered by lady bags
I look down at myself
I look up at myself
Our eyes meet
And I realise
I am bored
Bored by disappointments
The dailiness of disappointments
The consistency :)
Life is hard, life is a battle
I accept
But each day, to swallow
That life is pedestrian too?!
Is caste the issue?
Gender?
Religion, identity?
Is poverty the issue?!
When I grew the eyes to see
It used to shock me
But when shocks are daily
Shocks become numb
Shocks become 'reality of life'
You learn 'acceptance'
You chug 'on' with it
Like a silly, child-abused rag doll
You sway sideways
You sway back-and-forth
You match pace with the violent rhythm
The violent rhythm the world teaches you
'Is life'
I blink at myself
I blink back
I look down and sigh
The belly of creature rumbles in angry tones
This creature
This, this, this creature
Would prefer to keep its ugliness
Would prefer to fest in it
It would prefer its pettiness
Its passive-aggressiveness
To harbour and cultivate its hurt
And to hurt and multiply the hurt
This, this, this creature
Would prefer anything but healing
I sigh again, and look up
My railing ghost is sleepy
She yawns at me,
Bored.

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31-01-20