End of the world

At the stroke of midnight
Empty beer bottles pile up.
The stench of half-eaten biryani,
And the dirty dishes all
Over the floor.

The shearing pain in
The head of the hangover,
You can't handle-
Orphan written
On your forehead as you
Can't remember your
Father's name.

She comes to mind and
The life you couldn't have
And the unborn children
Scream and you roll over
The floor and cry.

At ten past two,
You think you're gay and
Try to kiss your drunken
Friend beside you.
He slaps you first and
Consoles you into a weird
Sort of existentialim.

An hour later something
Gets into him- he convinces 

You that the world is gonna end.

Douglas Adam takes over
Your drunken head and
Takes you both to
The restaurant at
The edge of the galaxy.

You order masala dosa
And cutting chai and write
Each other eulogies in a hurry
On tissue papers.

At the end of the world,

By nine past four, you understand-
All the fireworks were just
You puking heavily without
Understanding why and
The eulogy sounded so good, 

You really wanna die.