Night-time Smoke Diaries 1

Nicotine Buzz, the first after a long time
My thief's feet have fallen asleep, tip toeing around my own home.
Silence broken by the sound of the chowkidar's whistle,
Lathi clacking along in the dead of night.
I'm alive, the shadow of the tree with it's nerve endings hanging, on the opposite wall.
Exhale, the smoke disappears into the orange light.
Stub out the conehead cigarette.
Back into the dark, my tinkling payal gives me away.
Dabe paon, I return to my own softly lit, air conditioned hideaway. Blue.
I'm under floral sheets.
The chowkidar is still out there.






This isn't a poem, I can't write those, it's just a ... thing I wrote on my cellphone last night after a quick smoke. The tantas of living under your parent's roof. There's more where this shit came from.