Who needs drugs?

The cosmos of infinity,
Mouth stitched by a string,
The meditating bodhisattva on my back seat,
Carrying all emptiness and sadness within.
A thousand smells,
Mingling from head to toe,
A few drops of barrack bottomed lake,
A star that drowned last night,
A thousand sweet echoes of ‘julleh’,
And a few cold stares,
Somewhere between the stinking sock
And my dirty underwear
Lies a few hours of sleep that couldn’t be.
A Japanese story, a tshirt,
And an innocent smile and red of the sweater of the school kid,
All tangled up at the bottom.
Inseparable yet easily available.
Full to the brim,
Yet space for another memory,
Unnamed faces, new words and
An old pair of jeans,
Torso decorated with chappals, shoes and humility.
Knitted closely a love affair, Buddhist chants 4 thousand kms of dust,
and love of the men who fed me at midnight.
The cold shivers and the glass
that’s half empty and half full.
A pink skirt, a dream drifting into reality,
And spanner no. 8&9.
The emptiness and the space
for the lost Morrison tshirt,
The friends i make, leave behind and I will.
The ugly spectacle box, the good wishes
And the fear stapled to this dream.
The borrowed crimson of the sunset,
The cloud i touched and breathed,
And the NDEs.
The time i stole from myself and
The toothbrush i borrowed.
The clicks, fleece pants and
Snow top aspirations.
The air that floats behind that hill,
The longing to get there and then get away,
All stuffed in a monkey cap.
A folk song, unknown concert on the rooftop
And borrowed eyes living someone else’s dream
All zipped in a black pouch.
It sits there through,
Dust, snow, witnessing sun v/s cloud,
Never complaining, tied with ropes.
Like all, somewhere between
Satisfaction and endless hunger.
The cosmos of infinity,
Mouth stitched by a string,
The bodhisattva on my backseat.