In life,
sometimes, like a
bored, worn out student,
you raise your hand
for attendance purposes only.
Otherwise,
familiar with the fact
that the school is long over
and done with.
Your wife and children
gaze at you, first in amazement,
then take up their mental registers
and mark you present for the day.
Your wife smiles, the kids giggle.
You play along, take notes
and grin in return while
tinkering with the broken toy.
The school maybe up,
the class isn't -
It never is.
A mangy dog,
shivering and frail,
sitting in the pallid rays
of winter sun
is actually all of us -
thinking and wishing,
one home chore, another music track,
shopping, a cricket match,
one more reel, a movie,
going to the supermarket,
applying nail polish,
buying updated gadgets
can cure us of our diseases:
hopeful the impending spring
there would remain no wounds to lick.
A random pebble
considers itself
a bit of every sole,
that grazes or tramples it,
even when the wearer disregards
the shoe to be part of the earth.
Intimacy is convoluted.
