Everyday Alarm
Everyday Alarm
So Parul wakes up to the sound of her everyday alarm
Frowning in her sleep, wishing somebody would shut it
And so the dark stout man wakes up to the sound of the early honk honk
Holding onto his age-old stick, he gets up from the footpath
And freshens up by brushing the dirt off of his shirt
Parul, leaves her king-sized bed untidy
She walks barefoot to the kitchen, takes out the blender
And makes her regular Nescafe with half spoon sugar
And so the housewife ties her worn-out saree by her waist
Folds up her bed, let the kids sleep, grabs the broom
And starts cleaning the dust out of her mud house
Parul presses a Sephora 'hot latte' on the soft skin of her lips
Stands up in her Gucci dress, checking every angle of her body, side to side
In front of the mirror, and pouts 'I'm not curvy, enough'
And so the little girl with her unwashed hair
Finds herself standing in front of the cotton candy she only gets once a year
But craves for more
So she asks her dad to buy one today,
And so her dad takes out some money he was going to commute with
'I' ll walk' he says to himself.
Parul says goodbye to her friends, takes her turn, and walks to her house
Her feet already hurting from the fifteen-minute walk
'Gosh I hate college' she says as her phone rings with a message
'House party tonight, 8 P. M.'
So she reaches back, takes a long refreshing bath
And dresses up in another Gucci
Only to leave, with her body mist on
And so the gol gappa man packs up his food in a big bundle,
Counts the ten-rupee notes he earned today and smiles
'Twenty more than last time'
He keeps the big box on his head, holds it up
And walks home, thinking about his ill wife
And the medicine he's supposed to buy on the way
Parul gets drunk, dances to the beat, makes out with a guy
And stays over at her friend's, scrolling through the views on her stories,
Searching for her ex's name
With her lipstick all messed up, her dress all falling off, she sleeps off on the couch
And so the mullah with the white cap sits outside a mosque
Smokes a cheap cigarette, and holds onto his ragged quilt tight
Looking up at the sky, he closes his eyes, as the sun comes out, ripe and orange
At 6 A. M.
And Parul wakes up,
To her friends shouting at her everyday alarm.