Seene mein jalan aankho me tufaan sa kyun hai?Is shahar mein har shaks pareshan sa kyun hai?
Every place is now a Mumbai
Pareshani seems to be airborne
Like it was (said to be) during Covid.
Every face wears enigmatic expressions, endangered emotions and paralysed feelings
There’s an obsessive, compulsive engagement with unnameable dreads and unbreakable threads
Our trauma–loving selves turned fragile from agile boast of scanning eyes for problem–laden news.
Ferrying flotsam and jetsam of day–to–day worries
Ceaselessly catastrophising otherwise common thoughts
Hibernating in anticipatory anxieties and preferred panic modes
We are happily active and busy in anxiety audits.
A set of manic worriers with retrograde resilience
Spending our untold energies enacting the unseen, unknown sorrows
Embracing discomfort and feigning frustration
Meandering in the vicious circles of known unknowns and unknown knowns
With a ridiculous resolve to resolve every unresolved.
Willing to make friends with worry, a malware, and be maladaptive
We deliberately don disorders and battle borrowed neurosis and end up in an emotional limbo
An acute injustice to amygdala we deal, maybe, is no big deal
Settled in a state of jeopardy, discomfort with equilibrium we feel.
Our banes are born from an overdose of boons
Happy to be unhappy, we wallow in our cocoons
No longing, no belonging
We place our cups upside down when life’s pouring
Never mind missing the beautiful baraat of stars while we bend our heads and our digital extremities are busy in digital scrolling and strolling.
No time to count and name blessings one by one
Sent them all up in smoke and “we’re done”
‘Mind–forged manacles’ or self–styled shackles?
As long as we’re enjoying it, who tries or tackles?
Cart pulling the horse or tail wagging the dog, for us, is simply cool and fine
“Carpe diem” lies buried deep and silent in a dp caption or a status line.