An Evening Grass Dew

As I slogged my way out from our rusty elevator of the west lobby
The aroma of ‘an evening grass dew’ enchanted my senses
It threw me into a flashback of Assam
Where my evenings were spent playing Cricket or at the bench with geeky girls on lenses

The dusk were almost antiquated in winters
Not that it stopped us from desperately frisking for a cricket ball lost in the mighty woods
The sunny days were spent dreaming at school
While the moon light nights walking around in hoods

I was part of a dancing troop formed at the local community club
Swaying to the tunes of Bollywood in an open ground, even in rain
I also did try to transcend myself to a literature communion
No matter how hard I tried, the teacher pronounced me useless, “all in vain”

Now that I’m lost in the corporate forest of a connected world
I recall I always planted my way in the woods
Whether it be biking around, acting as if engaged in extreme sports
Or trekking the hill behind the C-11 apartment where the zebra patched dog always stood

I’m not in touch with any of my friends or the geeky girls I flirted with
but I remember, I had a precious few
with Facebook, LinkedIn, WhatsApp, Twitter to connect
I really miss that aroma of an evening grass dew

There is an unknown reason why I’m still here not raising my voice,
nor am I standing up for the fight
perhaps, because I think I’m savvy, I get the gist of life
But I never understood why these thoughts only hit you at 11pm on a random weekday night.

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