Memories of a mundane day seem exciting now,
memories of bygone days – the Malgudi ones,
the maskless ones, the non-curfewed ones,
they keep coming back like dust on things.
I am ashamed.
A strange kind of a shame that I can’t explain,
ashamed of showing my face,
scared of being caught off guard–
and not just by the virus.
How sheltered I am!
These walls seem to have grown thick,
and my mind won’t be contained now.
Can’t listen to music or watch movies,
nor can I read books –
my mind doesn’t want to cope now.
My legs are exhausted from not walking,
my eyes from not seeing you,
the terrace has become my humble solace,
under the vast sky a minuscule picnic.
No one else is around me
from the watery sinks to the shadowy curtains.
I am alone with the whirling cosmos.
Goodbye, love, far away, in a warm place.
Days are endless here, the silence infinite.
Ruthvik Naik is a poet.
Featured image credit: Ankit Chatterjee