unemployed

Have you got any questions for us?

asks the interviewer

I shake my head

Thank them

And walk out.

Candidates swarm me like houseflies,

Dying to know how tough were the panellists.

Which topics need to be focused upon,

Trying to make small pep talks,

Build up some confidence.

Exit the office,

Catch a bus,

Hold onto the rod for dear life,

As the driver pushes on the accelerator,

And abruptly brakes,

Overtaking bikes and cars,

Defeating other buses with the sheer volume.

Conductor roars with all his might,

And cashes in those tickets

From unruly passengers,

With tight pockets and gruntled, sweaty faces.

Hop down at my stop,

Smoke a crumpled Navy-Cut

I borrowed it from a friend.

Let the acrid stench assault

My tongue and reside there.

Pop down a mint gum,

Sanitize hands,

Equip N-95 mask

And walk, again.

The muezzin performs the salat

Sun has set.

It is time for the Maghrib prayer,

Faith amplified through loudspeakers

Coiled around lamp-posts.

Haven’t eaten anything since last night,

Only drank shitty coffee and water

Offered in the waiting hall.

Clothes full of wrinkles,

Lie stained with the past.

Back-pack torn and dirty,

Shoes with worn soles.

It was my last interview

For this year’s hiring season.

August is over,

No rainfall in sight,

No job in hand,

Failure after failure.

Haven’t been inside an office

Since last December,

Mom expired in January,

Girlfriend married someone else in February,

Dad hasn’t woken up from his coma yet,

Bills are overdue.

Economic inflation has fucked me.

I sit on a park bench

And dream alone.

Remembering miserable childhood,

The abuse, the fights,

The most bloody nights,

Scars on my body,

Deeper ones on my soul,

Still urge to kill myself

And end it all forever.

A hand rests on my shoulder

Kid asks me

Are you alright, sir

You are crying

I hug him

And tell

Don’t grow up.