The world has become so tired
After a long travel through time and space
It appeared lying on the grassy meadow
Like a maid servant grind, reaming
Pasting her skinny corpse with a rotten mat
Which is spread like a summer body
While her flesh plastered on the skin.

The newspapers announced:
A havoc would stop the
mankind from dreaming,
the annalists wasted pages
for the world, might destroy
the minimum thread
break up with family,


skipping off the orbit and
the world might roll under
rich neighbour’s gate.
that is what I understood or imagined
or would bend his head
nodding on the window like a bus conductor.

Still I never believed them,
Never believed that one day
People would drop me off the bus
and run away to life,
Never believed that
the world would stop me or is stopped,
never dreamt even that
the police man would
ask me to sing the national anthem at the station.

I then wished the world stopped
And it stopped.

When the child who shares his alphabets
with me everyday,
stole my purse and
ditched me with his great personality.

I picked up a bus towards the graveyard
of few past photographs
to travel for a definite pain.