Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Tapas Das

Drama Tragedy Action


3  

Tapas Das

Drama Tragedy Action


A new normal

A new normal

3 mins 195 3 mins 195

On those nights when I would look at the streets I could see terror spilled, and every ambulance which would pass I secretly wish whoever that is will survive upon reaching,

I remember those days when our troubles were purely individualistic when I can simply walk into a mall and languorously have a coffee and look at people sauntering- or a couple taking a picture

And then I will walk to a crossword and slid my fingers on every new book, I read the blurb thinking one day my book will showcase here too.


The evening would evaporate; the smell of new book will replace the taste of the pungent coffee,

Now, whenever I see couples in the metro I can only imagine why they are not wearing a mask.

Only to be cautious, I feel like reprimanding like an old man who sees a kid chewing the end of the pencil,

These are taking away so many small moments even the sadness I miss of a normal day, people crowding the pubs and brushing each other bodies like it will remove the camouflage of who they are.

The scent of expensive presumes travels across the noisy place, everyone pretending to be rich,

A strange guy cowered himself on a sit too uncomfortable to come on the dance floor, the music is loud, the bartender who stands aloof and look at the crowd who are swaying and inebriated misses the silence of his village and the true joy of kissing his wife,


Now it’s all closed, the same waiter who might have served you food would be struggling to get ends meet.

I remember the night of cab rides back home, the chatter of the driver who is perhaps earning more than you, keeps the FM loud as the day is about to end,

People put their stuff inside their bags to catch the locals and exactly at the same time will find the friend standing at the same place.


The friend who bought a new phone on the same local compartment, every other commuter gawking at them, the bustling of the local tracks, the overcrowded karjat local 

As the train halts one call the railway canteen boy to get samosas, the overpowering aroma makes everyone in the same compartment hungry, one imagines eating one,

Now it’s all empty, the emptiness of the station has become the pyre of the society,

Where did they all go, the man who brought sweets, the man who shared movies- the boy who spoke about his honeymoon trip, where did they all go?


And what happened to this home of ours

Our fate is becoming more of a suicide bomber, who can anytime die by pushing one incorrect button,

Now crowd means disease and disease means covid,

This fear will haunt us till the time all these become a common flu

And new common will not be so common it would be entirely something else


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