Rush Hour

Bread toast for breakfast.

My regular menu.

The watch ticks 9.

Plan to leave the meal unfinished.

The hurried gulping

Not helped by horlicks-laden milk shake.

9:15.

A panicking look at watch.

I should be out on road.

Right now.

An urge to leave utensils unwashed.

The cockroaches scurrying across,

The remnants of someone’s dinner,

Strongly deter.

The dress all stained with water,

The dish washing done,

I run a comb through hair,

Not stopping to look

At the volume of tangled mess in comb,

Done, all done.

As I change my shoes.

Wait, wait, wait!

The bed-spread creased

And wrinkled.

Can’t leave it like that.

So smoothed and stretched,

Oh! I spread it again.

Not daring to look

At the watch,

I pick up my bag

And am out of the door,

Out on the road.

Finally.

And by estimate

I am a good fifteen minute late.

Unusually

I hail a rickshaw.

20 bucks!

For a small stretch

That I would have walked

Had I not been running late

And had I not been gripped

With this sudden atrophy

After an hour of running around.

Boo.

Say I.

And begin to walk,

Strenghtlessly;

And surprisingly,

The rickshaw turns around

And looks at me encouragingly

Agrees to my price

And drops me in time.

And the moment I pay him,

My regular bus

Arrives

Like it was waiting for me.

It is all vacant.

I am the first person in.

15 bucks for my destination.

I have either 20 or 10.

Boo!

Say I again.

He’ll settle for 20 and

There goes my 5 bucks.

This happens quite often.

It will happen again.

Thinks the now drained me.

Only not today.

For he hands me a crisp 10.

You paid me extra last time.

Says he.

God bless you!

Says I.

And finally I dare

To look at the watch.

Its ok.

I am right on time.

I smile.

People smile back at me.

Unknown,

Unrecognized faces.

Today’s gonna be sunny.

Splendid and superb.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 101