The waiting room

 

Waiting-Room-Upper-Class-at-New-Delhi-Railway-Station

Look at those

waiting room chairs,

And those rows of

fleeting emotions

sitting  there,

Hope, despair,

anger, fear

love and desire…

 

Restless kids

running around,

Or careless traveler

sleeping sound…

Newly married couples

stealing glances,

Pickpockets

peeping inside

seeking chances….

 

Plugged out from reality

with earphones

there sits  an aloof teenager,

Parents watching

every eye that fall

on their daughter…

 

Strong toilet stenches

And people eating on benches

Ears attuned to

Train announcements

Many friendship starts

Discussing railway complaints

 

Waiting room is filled

forever with chatters

It looks so alive

Inhaling and exhaling travelers

© Sukanta Mohapatra…2017 (photo from internet)

 

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Sugar in morning cup of tea

“Where the hell is sugar”…after lining up all the ingredients to make his morning cup of tea he searched fanatically rummaging the neatly placed containers in the kitchen cabinet.  His wife carefully instructed his the night before about whereabouts of life-saving items. “See, here is tea, sugar. Milk is inside the first self of fridge. Eat biscuits with tea…Don’t cook, you will only make a mess of the kitchen. Eat outside. I shall return in evening….”

“Come on, only one day…I can survive, even will do better than you.” He bragged. Now with boiling water turning dark red with tea he suddenly remembers, he had to add milk. In his haste, half of the milk fell on the gas stove. Sugar is nowhere in sight. With a sigh, he made up his mind, switched off the stove, put on his t-shirt and locked the main gate and walked towards the tea stall on the chowk.

“Sir, what a surprise! Bhabiji is not at home?” Mr. Hota, asked him showing his pan stained teeth.

“Yes, sugar has gone for a day…err..I mean wife has gone for a day..”

© Sukanta..2017

Smile

Memories of your whispers, your tantrums

are the things that make me smile,

Your little love notes, the imprint of kiss on them

are the things that make me smile,

The path you walked away, sound of the last goodbye

are the things that steal my smile

© Sukanta..2017