The Hermit Crab

“You have started working like an ASS!!” – Sita, Ritika
“kya hogaya hai tujhe, kya tha, kya ban gaya hai” – Harsha
“Bhai, Itni raat ko bhi office mein” Dhanno Bhai
“tujhe subah 7 baje ghar se nikalte hue dekhta hun and raat ko 11 baje wapas aate hue, bas that’s all I have known u since the past one month” – New roomie (A Bong, yet again, but not even .1% cool as my ex roomie, Joy A.K.A Saikat (yes, saikat is a name))
I usually ignore such statements and simply choose to address myself as a workaholic. So yesterday while walking back to my house (I choose to call it a house and not a home), karaoke’ing some nice classic rock songs, I felt schizoid. I know it’s nothing to be proud of.

“Connected to the world through so many means and yet in a way disconnected.”

Feeling Schizoid.
I have let myself go.

I think the time is not right, but I will hang on,
I will fight it out; I will hold the line.

Enjoying the solitude, the space that I have created for myself;
I am by my own, the demons giving me some company;

Yet, the day is really long; the night sometimes refuses to pass by;
But like everybody, sometimes, in pursuit..

The hurt hasn’t gone, though the tears have dried away,
Shattered dreams, I face whatever is coming my way

Sometimes, I need a helping hand;
A shoulder to rest on, a tender kiss, a warm touch to make the tiredness run away, and I look at myself,
I feel that sometimes, maybe sometimes..

Reminiscing old friends, the lost smile, that serene touch;
Those improbable moments, improbable wishes;

And now there are desires, mutated and cloned; wishing someone may undo it all;
In search; maybe sometimes..

All I had back then was my world
All I languish for is my own world.