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transition

I live and I don't.
Its something that goes on and one doesn't even realize this.
The Transition is so quick .

I will talk something of the world around me.

Well , its black and red and rough and blue
So much to see and so much to ....

A local bus.
faces and masks
Bad guys
Bad breath
Old ladies
Unshampooed hairs
Loose tied sarees
Old village men
Brown skins and black boots
Unfit like themselves.
Whaaaat a  LIFE !
So unworthy
So torn out
Yet they wear
If you ask them why?
They will say -
We dont know
We dont care.

And what about those
Who know ...
very purpose of their life lies in
Dirtiness
How I know?
well
their dirtiness crawl upon my body
sometimes waist
or down
or up
or anywhere.
Whaaat a Death!
Let me die.

Hey ! no !
She said today in the class -
Nothing and no one in life is worth taking your life.
But why Van Gogh suicides?
And why Woolf ?
What about the immortal nightingale of Keats?
And what's there in the Byzantium of Yeats?
World of Beauty and Art !
How true and unlike our real world... ohh.. oh...
And those dreams .. soft .. and ohh.. that insanity is so romantic...

Oh !
The Transition was so quick.
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