Fetish

I have a fetish. To inhale more of life with every breath, sometimes, stare at billboards like I were blind, as they whiz past the windows of public transport. To count the wings of dust that arise, when some cobbler on the sidewalk polishes some forgotten shoe. To hear the patter of a familiar pigeon that paces to and fro, outside my kitchen window, waiting for a batch of scattered grains.

Or whiling away dusks by looking in the eyes of diminishing headlights of home bound cars. Or at lonely cattle on the streets. Or people running behind a bus. Scream-bargaining with autowallahs. Staring at the mehndi in the hands of the girl in the next seat. Building stories.

Sometimes, wringing out the last bit of humor in life, by looking at the stretch of muscle on the face of some pissed off traffic policewoman. Or making the most of the lack of parking space. Of honks, honks and honks. And school children, crossing roads, holding hands.

And beggars, running behind. Some limbless and some clutching stolen children. The ring of a coin thrown into their pale silver twisted bowls. In parks, in secluded corners, behind bushes, utterly homeless lovers making out!

Standing on the divider in the middle of a noisy highway, and wondering if life indeed is as funny as it seems. I seem to have a new fetish. 

5 comments:

:-Dee said...

That's a nice fetish, a thoughtful observation and well written!!

Raj said...

a life for a life. a fetish for a fetish.

you seem light. good. :)

Ankur said...

If life doesn't make you laugh, you just didn't get the joke !!

Richa said...

Loved reading this!

wildflower said...

Somehow feeling flat-erred.. :D