Depression Chronicles at a roadside stall

Follow my eyes as it goes around and then inside my stupid head

I am in a prison. Open Windows have bars. The scent of freshly plucked panikoorka* leaves that transcends boundaries, received by my nose, into the whole body, makes me shiver in response to this strong intimate encounter. A delivery boy in red. The screech of the tyre as his bike skids on the wet road. Rain drizzles and sizzles off. The water dripping from the trees and sunshade a mere reminder of what has been. I saw two small brown-grey birds on the mango tree, pecking and hopping on its branches. The siren of an ambulance drowns my thoughts. Death unthinkable, unimaginable, unacknowledged lurks inside my head threatening my sanity. The battery is almost down. I hate to get up and connect the charger. I am limp, frozen and my fingers move mechanically on this 8 year old laptop. The years I wish I could re-imagine and write again another me. When it was raining I saw a man walking on the road. He stopped in my line of vision , bent down and took a piece of cardboard some fellow traveler dumped at the roadside. He took it and put it over his head and he walked away. Can I be that man I wish to be? will I be able to be him act like him and be satisfied? How will I be him? How will that experience be? My heart raced at the thought. A car sped through the road after he walked out of my vision. No I can’t be him. He is just pathetic wayfarer to those in the car. just another unsuccessful man who can only be a failure. I saw two masks ride a cycle. This should be accepted into the canon of synecdoche usages. A strange man in white and a blue surgical mask on his face….Why does it make me think of…Whom does it make me think off….yes politicians.. But won’t white stain? If they really want to work with people, shouldn’t they wear black? strange that now I think of it, I have only seen people wearing black when they go to shabarimala. or they en-route, come here to guruvayoor. Oh! how I miss those people who used to walk through this State high way lane! that determination, that faith, that resolution to reach their destination, the inertia of motion. I miss that. The world will change in to before corona phase and after corona phase. our way of life will change. The whole world’s will change. How long will it take me to realize this change. My consciousness is most guarded against involuntary, uncontrollable unpredictable changes. I refuse to accept this change. The whole world is traumatized. But Please don’t infect me. I refuse to accept this trauma. Let me be. It is going to rain again.

*Plectranthus amboinicus. Known as Ajmo or Ajmet in Gujarati, Panikoorka in Malayalam, Vaamaku in Telugu, Doddapatre in Kannada, Pathurchur or Owa in Marathi, Patta ajwain in Hindi, and Karpuravalli in Tamil, it is used for treating cold, cough, and fever in infants.