Sponge

Half past midnight-
As the night lengthens, the drizzle morphs into rain.
The neon lady blows a kiss, in the general direction;
(Primordial marketing)
“Drink my beer” says the sign.
Sure I would but not for the sign, for myself…

Three down three more to go-
The lady in neon kisses again, her lips more iridescent than ever;
The mother in the opposite apartment rebukes her child,
Homework was classwork, apparently.
Changed roles happily.
The girl in the verandah blushes on phone, our glances meet, she shifts hers away.
I laugh in my mind…
Below, the caretaker of the apartment is gilling the fish humming an old song

I like looking at people, following their daily life, oblivious to and of anyone.
“Artistic voyeurism”, I retort to myself.
I’m simply enjoying the flavors life has to offer, (to others)
I stumble my way to bed,
Tomorrow’s an important day, I must soak up everything of this place today.
(We’re all sponges of flesh, blood and bone, soaking up experiences on the road to eternity.)

– Biswadeep Ghosh Hazra