Direction can bamboozle me
An autist mind thinks different
As if in a maze, so divergent
Can his thoughts be
Getting lost so often
Every new place seems alien
Looking to trap you
Till you lose yourself
From asking for directions
To seeing shakes of heads
Losing hope due to inaction
Not getting any leads
Especially when it's south Mumbai
I hop on to a bus
As it goes on and on, I cuss
Wishing I were back in Chennai
Predictably I get down at the wrong stop
Greeted by a run-down lane
I was early, now late
My panic rises to the top
As taxi-wallahs say no
Even as I give various landmarks
I wonder where shall I go
I am clearly in the dark
I see a gentleman in a car
Probably my last hope
I plead for help
Thus apparently lowering my bar
The gentleman offers a drop
Which I gladly accept
A big relief in this heat
As the ride comes to a stop
He says we will meet later
Since he stays in my locality
In him I saw a lot of humanity
As my day suddenly got better
I had got the inspiration
For writing my next poem
In such an interesting fashion