Square One

To hear your own self crunch,

In the silence of someone's deed.

To lose your calm and peace,

So much that you cant breathe.

To leave and walk from all,

Thinking you will be free.

And to then walk back,

Because you have no where else to be.

The Insensitive Census

After a morning of disturbing arguments with my mother the last thing I wanted to respond to were the 'Census' people. Well, to my requirement, that came true and I dint get to talk to them.

My house is comfortably located in a cozy corner of the world, far from civilization which requires me to walk a kilometer at least in order to appreciate and view human faces. With a morning that started with a fight and already late to attend the first hour of college, grumpily I took long strides. And before the final turn (which is quite an invisible turn really) to my house, I saw them. Since mom leaves for work and after socializing and empathizing with her school children comes back home really late, I knew if any one had to answer question that would be me and since I wasn't in the mood for it, we were amongst those chosen few who were too cool to be counted in the large numbers. To my comfort, I liked that version better. I wanted our numbers and facts to play hard to get, thus assuming that they will come back the next day or the day after to take records. (I try and mend every situation to suit my needs of either elevating my ego or tramping over it. This was mended for the prior. Ah! what a feeling to be wanted and needed so much.)

The very same day i read the article of C.K Meena on The Hindu. My ego shrunk to the size of a pea. The very though of not being included in the census of the country that I so proudly belong to and the country that allows me to post any bull crap I want on my blog without restrictions, the same very country whose roads hate but whose portals I can never convince myself to ever leave, disturbed me immensely. I wanted the 'Census' people to come back. I want them to come back. It doesn't matter to me if I'm just a mere number with a few details in their records but as long as I'm counted, I know that they know I belong and I exist.

I eagerly wait for them to come. Like a lover I mourn my own loss.