Touché .

23rd Jan’18 .

It’s 12:04 pm .

I can hear the roars of the bus engines , along with halting bumps . . And sounds of horns and bikes spurring and men sweeping the roads .

The wind is playing it’s part in keeping me well saturated with the diesel fumes . It’s also keeping me dry and cool , as the sun is out and shining with haze . It isn’t as severe as in the summers but it’s warm enough to cook you slowly if you stand in it too long .

I’m on my way to luckystar , Saddar . I’ve to buy a few required instruments from there . The word ‘few’ is loosely used over here , because the number of instruments is anything but .

After buying them I have to reach my university premises by 1:45 pm. To reach my operative lab by 1:55 pm , i.e. After buying my logbook from the campus book shop . All in less than two hours . Is that even possible ? The ride alone is an hour , both ends combined .

So yes . This day is quite amazing . . as someone once said , ” It’s good to gamble “ . . not that I completely agree to it . Even though I am aware of the terms and context in which he stated that . Risk is still risk . I’ve been trying my best to stay organised and run away from risks . Yet here I am . . . . Woe to me . Hhhh . .

12:22 pm.

My thoughts are going reckless . Is it because I’m trying to avoid thinking of anything but the situation I am in ? . . . . My mind wanders through the dark , intoxicating pathways with only one other figure in sight . The figure is in itself quite drink-worthy . And within my vicinity , that particular worth gets considerably magnified .

12:33 pm.

I have reached the street . . and now the hunt for the instruments begins .

1:49 pm.

I’m still at the shops . Yet , my lab is about to begin . In 4 ,

3 ,

2 . .

I’m doomed . (not really)

.

2:18 pm.

Heading towards another shop for yet another set of materials . .

If and only if , my mother had had the enthusiasm to wake up early at 9 , I would have taken the lab . .

How will I ever get past it ? Will the teacher scold me in the next lab ? How will I ever learn what the teacher taught in today’s lab ? Questions . . Questions . .

And ? . . I am blank ? What ? I don’t feel stressed ?

But then I was never the kind to take stresses for long periods of time . I could never handle it . I am too lazy to worry as much . Or is it just my secret method to stay calm in such situations ? Such a secret is even secret to my own conscious mind , I’d like to believe .

2:27 pm .

I am here .

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Oh no . Not to watch a movie . . Not that I’m not curious about what’s happening in there . . Because I assure you I’ve never been to a cinema house . Not in the real world , no . But I am here , because there’s a supposed shop in front of it . As the other shopkeeper suggested . Oh , hey , look here . .

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. Guess who’s this ? Oh yes . . My momma ! She lookin cute , ain’t she ? (Nigro accent). 😉 . . . And that blue thing at the base is me , holding the huge bag of newly bought goodies !

3:23 pm .

Going home . Meanwhile , the operative lab must be at it’s climax , I suppose .

3:33 pm .
Why ? . . Why do those thoughts bother me at the most peculiar of times ? . .
2:12 am .
My inner being runs from door to door in my head , with each door opening into a fantasy , each more irresistible than the the last . . . but I know better than to wish for those fables .
So , there I go running , escaping each door before it pulls me in .
The gasps of ripping joy I hear in some of the doors , in some I see never ending coasts being walked by me and the unknown . . In yet others , I find myself surrounded by towering shelves of books , the bearded man peacefully asleep by the fireplace . .
But I flee as quick as I can . . Until I find myself collapsing into his arms . He seems to me like some paradoxical possibility . .
I feel safer here . . here it isn’t as dark ,
And I breathe . .
. . tired of all the running . . No time is lost before . . . I’m asleep .

” . . To keep oneself away from expectations , is indeed hard work . . So , sometimes , it’s okay to give in and sleep . Go ahead . Dream . . “

– Gitana , hazy in an embrace –

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