Basement penthouse

Yet another day, the story goes on

So many things to ponder and frown upon

I wonder what’s brewing in the cauldron for tomorrow,

If it’s just the smell of more frustration and sorrow

In a topsy-turvy world where truth is stranger than fiction

So much continues to be ravaged by the storms of misdirection

With some compasses pointing to their own egoistic afflictions

Even fairness looks like it’s a victim of the rot

No action, but enough food for thought

Amidst the pushing and shoving and the endless hustle

I try to figure out my place in this jigsaw puzzle

Ideas, thoughts crashing down on me in a deluge

To escape the maze, I’ve got no subterfuge

So I slip into my basement penthouse, my trusted refuge

The weird, wicked ways of the world continue to haunt

Pushing me around on what I think I want

The environs, they just continue to taunt

You think you have a lot, but there’s really nothing to flaunt

At the end of it all, you end up looking gaunt

Confined in my basement penthouse, my trusted retreat

I think is it just a battle based on delusion and deceit

I debate on what would or wouldn’t amount to admitting defeat

My basement penthouse, just a vagary, one of many, which I hope

Will provide some ammunition against what the surroundings hold

My head, six feet under, tries to focus on this uphill task

Not getting waylaid seems like a big thing to ask

Fortitude and logic look like just a futile mask

‘cos you never know what’ll show up, shattering those hasps

Forty two

The alarm went off at 7 A.M. on that Sunday morning. He woke up relaxed after a good night’s sleep. The big day had dawned. Over the last few years, hardly anything else had given him a comparable feeling of satisfaction. He had always gone to great lengths, literally, to prepare for this, and as usual, he was feeling ready and confident. Just about an hour was left. A cool breeze and a few clouds in the sky, just the weather he liked for such an occasion, also added to the feeling of comfort.

However, time, as people realize through experience, is an agent of change. Some significant changes had occurred in his life in the recent past, and his priorities had begun to change. He was not a champion or anything such, but he had quite a few marathons under his belt. He had had enough experience of puffing and panting and sweating it out along the country road dotted with stalls providing water, electrolyte solutions and first aid. But it was now taking a back seat given the circumstances.

Elsewhere, a much younger version of him was also up at 7 A.M., finally opening his eyes to the much-awaited day. He was a newcomer to the rigorous world of marathons, and this was to be his first one. Despite the daunting task he was about to undertake, he looked unfazed and unperturbed. With no experience in this field, he was eager to see how things would shape up, and was enthusiastic to find out firsthand whether forty-two really was the answer to everything, at least for him.

They both left their respective homes for the starting line, thinking of what lay in store for them. As they approached the venue, they saw the starting line, teeming with people. Among the multitudes, they saw a few familiar faces cheering for them. They both went and joined their respective groups, joking around and eagerly waiting for the run to begin. The veteran stretched his legs a bit. This, he had decided, was his swansong. ‘Carpe diem’, he thought. The debutant took a puff of his asthma medication, and was now feeling a bit nervous. Time would tell how he would cope with the loneliness of the long distance runner.

In a few minutes, the marathon was flagged off. Both of them, standing merely a few feet apart, started running. Once they did, they never looked back.