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I returned

The runway started amongst blue plastic roofs
of slums made famous
not amongst manicured trees
I was back

The corridors were old
the carpet worn
nothing gleamed
I was back

the snake queue started at five points
instead of one
but the guard smiled a genuine smile
I was back

the customs desk was not modern
the official unfriendly
but the stamp said
I was back

The alcohol was cheap
the chocolates expensive
co passengers did not smile
but they helped when I asked

The exchange counters were next to each other
they overheard what I said to one
and did not ask me to repeat
they were frank

The prepaid taxi counter was in a corner
the man was gruff
but that was because an errant mosquito found him
he smiled when I pointed out
that most of the notes on his desk were pink
with the colours from Holi
The mint must have a tough time every year
he told me picking the unstained ones for me
and called my cab

I walked out into the blazing sun
It was dusty, it was hot
there were no pretty plants
no planned roads
My  taxi was old
The paint peeled, the seats worn

But the driver smiled, took my luggage
Commenting on the weather
he put them in the taxi and beckoned me to enter
while he finished his smoke
I was definitely back

A beggar boy came
healthy and young
with blackened hands
and a full belly
he begged me to give him chocolates
the luggage tags gave me away
the driver shooed him lazily and then harshly
for bothering me

One week and the roads had changed
new dividers
new posters
new cars

Afternoon roads are always alien
Weekend afternoons even more so
It seemed like a new place
and I miss my turn to my house
but Im back
and the next turn is not miles away

I reach my apartment
the guard runs out
he greets me as he takes my luggage
the same left on the top step of the building by the driver
because he did not want me lifting the weight
quietly he had driven off
after lifting the heavy weights
without a tip without asking for thanks
when the guard greeted me
telling me updates on what happened
who had quit and who joined
and that it had not rained

I reached home
the luggage dropped to my door
not for a tip
but for a smile and a word of thanks

everything was as it was
yet changed subtly
a layer of dust
a pile of bills
and then my phone rang

I was back home
Again, I was back to the place I called home
and I felt warm

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About Me


Regurgitations of my mind. Specific, Vague, Memorable, Forgettable, Thoughtless, In-depth.

More variegated than your dreams or colours off a crystal. More than I can pen down. What I can, you can read.


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