Sitting alone in the
Restaurants battling
With the spoons and a
Bowl of Idli-chutney.
Catching your lonely image
In the window glass and
Searching for yourself
In the cracks.
In movie theatres- early
Morning shows,
Sleeping there without
Any care for the plot
Or action and later on
Drawing philosophy over
Discarded condoms and
The spilled popcorns
In the last row.
Locking yourself in the dark
Of your room. Not wanting
Slightest of light.
And cursing that hole in
The window with no courage
To close it or let it
Fully distract.
These half-hearted efforts
To find yourself.
Asking deep questions to
End up falling in made-up
Dungeons-- to give
Over-thought meanings
To your shallow life.
The kind of facades,
You put up--
Masks you steal and
The identities you assume.
All for what?
To sit by the road again,
To paint yourself a
Self-portrait by copying
The faces of all the
Strangers that pass by?