A Man
His feet dragging across the sharply polished tiles on
the ground, make me irrationally furious. The flipping
and flopping noise generated due to his flip-flops
worn wearily and almost with a recalcitrant attitude,
make me want to do something that would be
perceived illegal in the eyes of the law. When he
watches content created for the uncultured
proletariat on Instagram on volumes as loud as it can
possibly be, my anger reaches its penultimate. I try to
console myself with hollow promises, promises that
such inconveniences are a part of life, one must be
tolerant and accepting and that no one in this world is
perfect. But the criminal inside me says otherwise, he
is a naughty little bastard. He wants me to fight, to
scream, to rage and to do something so egregious
that my life gets altered, I calm that bastard within me
and ask him to be in his limits. Life lately has become
a lopsided see-saw of morality and primal desires, I
hope the morality takes the cake.
Comments