The day flew today with galloping speed and a dust storm gathered. I was imagining that l was writing a story. The Prince and the Princess and the wicked witch who will play the spoilsport.
My life seems strange and almost stuck up in the vacuum where my son is my only friend. We cling along as time lingers by. My husband remains busy leading a secluded life or probably living it together with a woman l am not acquainted with.
As time drags on l can feel the venom that seethes in the hearts of the locals as l continue to be Modiji's admirer and remain critical of Didi. They have a single one word for me that is 'shameless'. Obviously l live in one of the least developed areas of Kolkata and seriously can't change the behaviour of rowdy people around me.
The thought-fox gathers momentum sometimes shouting sometimes mumbling and l believe my enemy could not have found a safer place to stay and manipulate situations. Obviously it refers to a man telling false stories about me.
The fan turns above my head and maybe my better self just endures the miseries of fate and controls me from penning my inner thoughts as the personal demons l confront everyday continue haunting me. I still search for beauty sitting atop cinders as l am still what l am a mad poet and activist some people are kind enough to call me eccentric.
