Today, I am cross: Poem by Komal Raja
Today, I am cross: Poem by Komal Raja
Today, I am cross.
I didn’t miss the bus for i was on time.
The bus missed its round today.
This is the most annoying thing about small cities and outskirts of cities where if one bus is gone next will arrive after an hour.
It was zero degree temperature and i was not dressed up proper for a walk or wait outdoor.
My hands froze
My legs ached
My feet felt heavy
My body weight doubled of its actual.
All this i had to bear when the delirium from last nights dream was not yet over.
Yes, I saw Saadi Sherazi and composed a long poem with him,
There was a news channel also showing headline from my ex, “don’t forget to send me words”
What words? I have only two left for him, “fuck off”.
There were 55 minutes in dream yet to go for the bus to come.
They say 55 is the angel number, the angel of God’s grace who is sent to pass a message of “transformation” to you.
Fuck dream and dream angels!
I sat on the bank of lake in freezing cold to wait for the bus.
there was water and wind and ferries and nothing else.
Also, the statue of a wearisome woman, leaning back in an uncomfortable posture, carved on a green pasture.
I smoked last cigarette from my pack
It’s Sunday
Shops are closed even on the bus station, cause’ its a small city’s bus station.
I am cross
And cold and
Hungry, and delirious.
Dead can dance playing in my ears.
Amid all this the thoughts about you are loathsome
I hated you for no reason
In the first place, I thought of you for no good reason.
Reason often fail in fucking love matters.
I think I hated you because I love you.
Who is this you btw ?
My core, my soul, my ex, my crush, my next, or my fret?
My nose running
My eyes watering
The city is sleeping
Bars closed, all the fuckheads gone to home
Cleaning woman, picking the garbage bag
Bookstores yawning
Birds disappearing
it is fucking too cold.
(I only need a mat, some sun, a highland pasture and a bottle of wine, a pack of cigarettes and no cloths.)
Before boarding in the same fucking bus (of life) with a different driver this time,
I realized, the expired ticket is still
clenched in my frozen hand.
I could have cheated on him
As the last one cheated on me.
But I didn’t, why I didn’t?
