Home sweet home.
The journey from rickshaw to rickshaw
is perilous.
Suspicious soup and odd shaped boiled eggs
being sold on the street,
where buses line up for diesel,
and hawkers sweep the streets.
I never see those eggs anywhere else.
I never see those faces anywhere else.
Only in twilight,
when the air is heavy and cold,
and there’s a particular sharpness to people,
and definite danger around every corner.
Opened the lock, and called out to mother.
Once, twice, thrice.
She was in her room,
door’s open.
No answer.
She couldn’t hear me, she said.
I went to my room,
door’s closed.
Listening to Cigarettes out the window by TV Girl.
There’s an odd loneliness.
An odd silence.
My lips murmur,
hesitant to call out your name,
but no tears flow
I should freshen up.
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 7:22 AM UTC
Home sweet home.
The journey from rickshaw to rickshaw
is perilous.
Suspicious soup and odd shaped boiled eggs
being sold on the street,
where buses line up for diesel,
and hawkers sweep the streets.
I never see those eggs anywhere else.
I never see those faces anywhere else.
Only in twilight,
when the air is heavy and cold,
and there’s a particular sharpness to people,
and definite danger around every corner.
Opened the lock, and called out to mother.
Once, twice, thrice.
She was in her room,
door’s open.
No answer.
She couldn’t hear me, she said.
I went to my room,
door’s closed.
Listening to Cigarettes out the window by TV Girl.
There’s an odd loneliness.
An odd silence.
My lips murmur,
hesitant to call out your name,
but no tears flow
I should freshen up.
journal
