If There Were More Hours in the Day
Cool winter winds
Carry stories untold
Through cracks in my curtains.
A quiet lovers' quarrel,
A sleeplessly sobbing child.
The low hum of television static
Mera jeevan toh hai tera saaya.
Clocks tick in homes asleep.
Plates clink at late dinners and
Shutters close as shop-
Keepers lock up before
Neighbourhood chachas walk
The cemented pavement,
An unfinished pack of death sticks in hand.
The blare of sudden Toyotas intrudes
Into the perpetual hush.
The nocturnal own these streets now.
A blanketing fog dismembers
The neighbourhood as I lay beneath
Blankets of my own but
I am one with it all
The same and this winter,
If there were more hours in the day
I'd spend them wishing
The writer is a grade 11 student of Cantonment English School and College, Chattogram.