Redhya

आषाढ़ माह के scorching summer days. The folds of the skin are covered in sweat. I’m in the dingy lavatory — minding my own business. I see. On my right side, the upright smoked cigarettes on the edge of the wash basin. A total of eleven — they haven’t been touched for ages. The eleven butts guard the white converging well well. Sitting on the English style toilet, the body suffering from exhaustion wants to sleep. Why don’t you just sleep redhya? The skin and bones droop; eyelids droop. The resting elbows crush the thighs’ skin, and after a point, it’ll hurt more than giving comfort. I realise — my life is full of chores. With zero motivation, I do few and keep a lot in the sink in the kitchen — like a pile of unwashed steel bowls and plates that are often explored by cockroaches around midnight. These creepy crawling nocturnal things leave crevices to fill their empty stomachs. Solitude makes you notice unnoticeable and sometimes makes you do things you generally don’t do. Of late, wh