Ambling through the highway, staring these pedestrians who don’t even have their time to return a gaze. May be it’s already been dusk and women have their children waiting them back home, children have a pile of homework to complete and men, may be their spouse are waiting for them to ask what to prepare for dinner.
This busy street and me. Each time my left leg crosses my right and vice versa, my bosom heaves and heart races faster, faster than the motorbike which just passed by me. At the mean time, my eyes glued on a diamond. I guess not diamond, it’s a gold because yellow street lights are already on. She is fighting with her boyfriend or just friend or eternal love or whoever he is. She is complaining of being late. Ouch! She throws the coffee away. Is she insane? How can anyone throw coffee? At least not in this bone chilling cold.
I’m in a state of enigma, leg lingered at a place, it seems as if i stepped on fevicol. Perhaps, this phenomenon, it’s all happening under the request of my eyes which got stuck on that pretty face with brown eyes, long eyebrows and red lips. Her long hair, the lucky ones.They should thank this cool breeze which is letting them touch her face and lips even though her hand is acting as a bouncer, tucking them back ear.
It’s mysterious how can girls handle such a long hair?
She might be of a rich family. What might be man? She is. Just look at her classic dress and who else will throw coffee in this freezing cold.
But it doesn’t matter, what matters is-
Would I ever get a chance to hold a girl’s hand & ask her not to go like the boy’s doing?
Would a girl repeatedly peep her cellphone and ask me to leave explaining it’s already been late & she’s getting calls from her home?
I was in my intimate thought when a bike’s continuous horn became successful in acquitting it. Now my legs no longer obey my eyes. My eyes, oh! Where’s the gold? May be she left a while ago when I was on my own thought. I’m again moving on my pace, with the same face on my head, the girl of my age. My age!
What’s my age?
I’m not sure of my age but the girl looked on her mid teenage and right now she might be laying her parents why she’s late…
Everyone seems to be in hurry, street lights are dyeing the face jaundice, people are hanging on the jammed bus and horns are piercing the ear.
I wonder why am I bimbling?a
What’s my destination?
This road is my destination, I’m bimbling because there’s no one waiting me back home, no parents, no family.
It would be more convenient if I say because I have nowhere to go.
I wanna know what’s the time?
But who will answer me the time, everyone are busy on their own.
Am I hungry?
This question reminds me of that coffee, I wish I had that. Rich children never care for food.
It’s December, but explaining it’s cold wont make me feel warm.
Let me take some rest. I’m tired of talking to myself, walking alone. Not alone actually, walking with myself.
But where? where should I take rest?
Edge? Yes, this edge of footpath, I can take a nap here.
But it’s full of garbage.
So what if it’s garbage here, I´m used to this offensive smell, the dust and the noise.
I can’t talk to myself anymore…
I’m tired like hell, tired of life…
tired of being optimistic…
Hope I feel the warm sun the following day…