*giggle*

In London, November, 2006

you know (said in a gushy sort of voice)
when you're in 9th and 10th class
you write poems about
solitude and loneliness
twin binaries of one's life...
how they are different, one can be the other
but the other can't be one, and many other ways around

as if there weren't parents to catch every tear that
fell from your eyes
back you up, feed you every morsel they could
but nonetheless you scribble about solitude and its delicious pain
how you chose not to have friends
though you have about 5 or 6 close friends who
could see you get upset from the shape of your back
during an exam or in the chemistry practicals lab
inspite of hydrogen sulphide smell all over...
and sulphuric acid burning holes in lab coats

now you know that girl would have been moved by one of
those ipod ads you see these days..all
about finding oneself..being alone
'happy to miss the last bus home'

and now..when you could have missed the last flight home
the last tube home
the last person who is likely to come online that night...

it feels different from what you imagined
and yet you find yourself giggling
quietly into the open palms of your secret
when you write an email to an unsuspecting friend
your alibi (one of those friends who actually did
watch your back when in school, now married
grumpy mostly, much prettier, much less attractive)
and in that email...you say, stuck in a spanking new city