Official holiday- trudging by
Bunking college- on a high
Car to be serviced..what a pain,
Joyful tinkering..no thought of gain
Radio blaring in the lab
Random songs, all old and drab..
Prof is calling..Do this now!
Where’s that radio, beloved and how..
7 A.M the report’s due
Unearthly hour, but the Sun’s on cue..
Come Friday night- a stranger to sleep
Rising Sun- am up and set to leap
Help with cooking? Non- option.
Studying, painting, need to run..
Wait. Friends are over, nobody’s there..?
Now the kitchen’s overrun, much do and dare..
Akbar, Fa-Hien, Firdausi
Drooping eyelids on a spree..
Come Kannada period, and under the table,
Shining eyes scan the Kohinoor fable..
The day’s done, am heading home
Outwardly lawful - glowing chrome
Hugging to myself the secret times snatched-
The joy of stolen moments..
It struck me that we enjoy the 'illegal', if you like, pleasures in life far more than the legal ones :> Half the joy is taken away from small snatched episodes if they're authorized. Or worse, expected! What is it about the secret joy of stolen moments that is so unique and non substitutable? Perhaps a craving for romance, for adventure, for danger..and not being roaming Bedouins in the vast unknowns we have to satisfy our souls in as best a way as we can :>
