Chronicles of an aam aadmi

Restless mind, sleepless nights and sugarless coffee go down to one thing. You are not at peace with yourself. Your day starts with the smoked morning and ends when the lights have spent their most.

BJP fights for JPC probe and your struggle lies elsewhere. You have Dolly Bindra’s tantrums in your drawing room and food in the kitchen with a pinch of onion.  The times are not changing it is only your hairline deciding to surrender. Age nudges you, lowering mileage hurts your savings and dearth of footage makes you go wild. You are trapped. Forget about the multi-million embezzlement, calculate your survival.

Kalmadi waves at you and Rathore with his mustachio throws a serpent smile. Every golden word of the scam lords come in ‘Breaking’ fonts and Dhoni invites you on his wedding. You return home with your backache and recurring sinus. Your grocery bill sets new benchmark every month and you stay glued on to Masterchef, insurance premium frets you and the pressure from younger ones compels you to have the Apple.

When inventory falls short, the inflation rate holds its head high. You repent the fact that gold is no more your choice of gift on the ‘much awaited’ anniversary.  Credit cards grace your wallet and you know why they say ‘Customer is King’. You grow sympathetic towards the paupers.

When we all confine ourselves within the prism of isms, you look for an open space to repose.  The diffused lights of your bedroom may make you numb but for somnolence to happen you need your anxiety to dilute. Targets, commitments, budget, shortage of time and arrangements come to you with a begging bowl and you can’t refuse.

News on deaths are more like common cold with only a few days of sneezing and voluminous coverage. The new arrives, opposition takes its position and the polity whistles off on the track that was traveled thousands times before.

Some of you are super talented. You think out of the satchel. You befriend hackers and snub neighbours. Your terror-model tempts many a young soul to goad their lives in the name of revolution. Stalwarts say “Yes We Can” and prepare a speech in defence of a rising unemployment. The lesser mortals sit back and count the hours of patience. Bilateral talks don’t break their in-house stalemate and parliament logjam does not put an end to their asthmatic life.


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