remembering home...

walking down the road. Calcutta's roads. with a C A L and drop the friggin Ks. The Left front acting precursor to ekta bloody kapoor's k mania.

it rained last night; the potholes are filled; little grey puddles; a private swimming pool for every bloody crow the city breeds. splash, splish splosh, and someone rams their heavily shod foot through one; displacing the little corner of sky it had reflected.

exiting the train station. sol smiles and all the world is gay.

busy and bitter perhaps; not gay. not unless you count metsex man standing beside his boyfriend, pierced ears glinting silver. i count five studs. five studs, wasted on a man who aint never gonna sire anything.

bloody waste.

the heat, the heat. it slam dunks into my astonished face. i am not ready for this- i dont have my sunglasses on yet; no hanky at the ready, black office trousers letting sol's intrusive rays into my pale skin cells, sweat popping from every pore.

the earth sweats too. slowly releasing pheromone like vapours into the mucousy air.

her dampness reminds me of something.

i am suddenly reminded of my own femininity.