My hundred mornings I had gifted to those carbon letters,
My thousand afternoons I sacrifice for a closed school gate,
My million evenings I burnt to decipher an elusive silhouette,
And my billion nights I wrote in the name of counting stars!
You think I’m a busted?
I won’t lie, I’m not-
Now I recycle those old papers and keep the change…
I relish an afternoon nap or sometimes on rented DVD…
I puff out the evening in resolving my clients’ agony…
Then I tip my fantasy to beauties and beasts of night…
You think I’m ordinary?
Pardon my arrogance… yes I’m-
You wonder why?
Because a day is inevitable
When you’ll be left with
Wheels under your shoes,
Black glasses to veil your eyes,
A fountain pen with solidified ink
And the phantom of an eloped Suzan!
Oh you are sceptic that I am lost in love?
Not at all my friend… I’ve found out what to love!
- Anunoy Samanta