Writing

I thought it would end in a week or two,
But life did surprise me with a spooky peek-a-boo
All days of the week seemed to amalgamate,
Soon it became hard to even track the date

I feel tired roaming aimlessly,
From one room to another, dinner till lunch
For the first time in a long stretch, rest
Did feel like a long dismal touch

I thought I knew all the walls in my home,
But soon I found new spots, new stains
I could notice the color of that wall getting dull,
I could already see the tiles on floor to cull

The situation was unique and largely new,
The new which felt like there was nothing to do
When it felt voluntary but nowhere necessary,
To even try to find my other shoe

Why this year? Why this time?

Rather strange, perhaps even for gods
Each time I hoped for good news on telly,
Each time my eyes met new peaks, new records

Lord, oh lord, when will this end?
I can feel the knee joints of my patience bend
Sometimes I envy the sleeping-self of mine,
For he gets to go with his buddies to dine

Other times I feel good for the future to come,
For I would be able to tell a tale for once
But when will it come? seems no one knows,
I want to meet, to sing along, to dance

There’s a li’l otter, trapped in its holt
Gaining each day, an ounce of a pound
Sitting in front of the damned window
Enough to make its vision go out of bound

There’s a li’l frog, trapped in a well
Croaking helplessly where is has to dwell
Cannot get out, it has to wait
But no information, till how much late?

It ends soon, I can only hope
Perhaps it’s a test, indeed a tricky one
I pass this test, I can only hope
Many of my chores, are yet to be done

Lord, oh lord, when will this end?
I can feel the knee joints of my patience bend.

It was the summer of 2007, a blissful tale
When I was a mere kid, a round face-pale
That hazy journey to my Uncle’s college,
The recurrence of occurrence in the Time’s gale

I remember the toy camera, the gun, the place
When I’d run across those roads to have a race
Though much of it is lost from inside my cranium,
The age when I found it hard to tie my shoe lace

I remember that supper, the people, the camera shots
I remember the supposed fun with those touch-me-nots
Maybe even that errand to that hostel room,
A time when it was easy to connect back the dots

Yes, am talking about that college, a trip
A trip which still takes rounds in my grip
Oh the Train, the Plane, the Jail,
I wish I could describe all, but alas,
things take a hard time sliding from mind to lip

Time passed within the wink of eye
and I was already sitting for my JoSAA pie
I had a talk with my Uncle before the round,
But the yarns about his college wouldn’t die

Before I could take a note, Time had played it’s clever toss
I now was in the same college where once my Uncle was
I sensed as if that past self of mine, smiled at me
For the circle of time, was now sort of complete