By: Harjeet Singh
Day and night are my own
In my big home I alone
Postman and bill givers approach
When I am out of home
Those who give me a test
by thumping my door
at the crack of dawn,
They have to return without any dialogue
Because they raided,
They didn’t strike with my consent,
A fable of my late awakenings
because of prolonged night voyage
of fatigued peepers upto wee hours.
Many ones proposed,
only invisible agency can live alone
Sans folks, sans wife
What’s more no dog
But being a self-respecting man,
never knocked at someone’s door
When need be.
When I am in profound sleep,
Sometimes, cell phones also sleep
In tension, lest some caller be missed.
Providence bestowed a realm of loneliness,
And handed over a responsibility for a few issues
which I could raise only in detachment.
Had I not lived in such ambience,
Perhaps I would have never composed such wise,
Ideology would have been divergent, contrastive.
Despite such ilk of life
I am gratified with circumstantial thoughts
Besides, situational themes and biases.
And further my empty home is fraught
with so many creatures in bound volumes.