Disclaimer - The whole narration of events is only for the kings and queens of procastrination.. aadarsh baalak aur baalikaayein please avoid this series of lazy events ..
I live in Delhi and Kilograms of mucus in my rumaal and on my mind tells me its November,
I wonder why Sweet Billie Joe did not ask to be woken up when freaking winter ended and not harmless September!
Every Morning just when your alarm has abused his elegant arse off for 10th time in a row
Your mind sets off on a ninja battle with its evil twin who wishes nothing but to get you fired,
Many objects and emotions appear bigger than they are in that decisive moment - The mind numbing temperature of the marble floor or fog by the window
But hell lets loose when brain decides to dress up as puppy eyes, looks down in your real eyes and ask "all this hectic life, aren't you tired?!"
Some days with a simple mathematics and low morality you can afford to take that innocent leave of absence..
But there are days when the excuses made in past laugh at your helplessness in the present,
You then muster up all the courage left in your veins and decide to plunge in the sole reason of your existence..
But One step on that remarkably son of a bitch cold floor, and there you are crying how wrong were you to ever get up from inside that quilt!
Some days you may have slippers by your bed, geyser working perfectly fine and time to treat your frozen nerves with a glorious tea
But (Kim Kardashian BUT) mistake you not my friend! None of those glorious days happen to fall in the winters , at least not with me!
My winter mornings are as chaotic and senseless as a Humshakal movie scene, do not wonder about which one,
The slippers are a mystery Sir Pradyuman cannot find, Oh there you may spot one but where the hell is another one!
Once the make belief pair of matching slippers is acquired cometh the task of brushing thy teetheth ,
In less than a minute, the routine of oral hygiene is executed thinking who needs a dentist!
As you turn away from the oval wash basin, arrives the question of life an death,
Should you stick to the golden rule of alternate days or be a man/lady to face up to a shower tryst ?!
The whole bathroom saga which once appeared impossible ends, you stand there in front of your cupboard contemplating to iron the crumpled t-shirt or wear it like a boss,
And just when you are smiling at yourself basking in the victory of your decisive powers, You realize you will have to catch your bus again running across!
The moisturizer, the lip balm, the badaam, the akhrots wakes from the dead and become your biggest challenges in that foggy morning,
The edge of the table you hit your toe with and the blood that freezes become your daily life and its mourning.
I live in Delhi and Kilograms of mucus in my rumaal and on my mind tells me its November,
I wonder why Sweet Billie Joe did not ask to be woken up when freaking winter ended and not harmless September!
