A holiday has been declared for Saturday but I have little to be happy about.
'Holiday'-it's such a misnomer here at Assam Valley that I simply cannot help but laugh at the futility of having one.
It's an immediate chance for a million more practice sessions; most often; unrequited.
Just when I felt the desperate need for sleep, to catch the first movie in the past three months and perhaps even having something creative on my blog-I can see the dreadful and undesirable Saturday ruthlessly approaching .
My first poem with some romantic element(in today's term) shall remain incomplete till eternity.
Another awful yet rooted story is half way through typing process.
But, I can only complain, whine and even wail if the need may come, which undoubtedly is close.
Rush, and more rush is the way of life. Incomplete prep work, dark circles of the worst kind and constant chiding has become an essential aspect of my daily life here.
And to think of it all,
I am writing a 'quiet' poem.
