The Two Halves

Driving the car from my porch, in a jiffy,

To reach the entrance of the door,

I practically go through each task of the to-do list

Well imprinted on my brain

and mark a green tick to the ones already completed.

It's been 45 minutes of driving

And I haven't even reached halfway.

The kind of math I don't like to do.

A traffic jam out of nowhere

Breaks my current calculation,

And floods my head with all dizzy thoughts

Consisting of- damning my fate,

Thinking whose face I saw first while waking up,

Soon realizing it was my own

And in seconds, reaching to the deep ends of self-doubt.

When a group of three kids,

Come horsing around on a bike

Wearing a football jersey,

I look at them from the side window of my BMW

One of them cracks a joke 

And all three break into laughter.

A verbose, carefree, cool laughter.

Reminding me of the time

When I used to be the co-captain of the college team

With my long lost dream

Of putting India

On the map of the global football league.

As the traffic cleared,

I broke in two parts,

Where the crabby office machine stayed back,

The vivacious half went with them.

The office champ in his BMW,

Still analyses a conflict

Whether he blew his chances

Or

Did the chances blow him up?