Sometimes life constricts you.
You see an ocean with dimensions,
Like a fish bowl. You say to yourself,
That there are conspiracies that play,
Judge and executioner, at least that’s another
Name for fate, when you are served snake eyes.
You’re the sail-less catamaran,
A wingless parakeet
And still you’re trying to escape that box
That fits you in, like a gas chamber.
You’re in a chess board, one piece
Battling 16 pieces and still you deconstruct
Days into hours, hours into seconds,
And still there is rain all over the place,
Lightning streaks flashing on top.

You’re like an ant under a mushroom,
Holding an umbrella, the feet muddy,
The pants sprayed with mud,
Walking, searching for the next round of mercy,
Which is a glass of distilled local Arrack,
The cheapest spirit in the local market.
You’ve been there at rock bottom before,
The day you took 20 sleeping pills,
Into your hand and somehow ejected
Them down the sink and not your throat.

One day, life wakes you up from the blue streak
And tells you that you’ve got what it takes
To be a survivor. That seaweed that gets
Pulverized over and over by the tide and yet
Somehow manages to catch some sunlight
And I look at the sun, always too invisible
And yet torching us daily, and I see
That sunshine in me. It is not a fairytale,
It is not happily ever after. It is an investment of time
That what I do this moment onwards,
Is done with a spring in my step,
And a gale in my heart.

I look out. Its no longer a fish bowl. I’m no
Whale or dolphin or shark, just a hagfish
With a vertebral column, that tells me
I’m one for the long haul, Suddenly,
The ocean open up vast spaces,
Opportune horizons, to know that I have a place to be,
Showing my comb-like teeth to the world.
After all, even the bottom dwelling hagfish,
Know the art of being photogenic,
Crafting loopy smiles. . .

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