Composed at some point in 2016. This is about an alley near my home named Kush Galli where I frequently went to smoke.
Never knew when this passage became a rest-path
A path of contemplation, solution.
You stood there, never knew from when
and lighted one cigarette after another
conquering one thought by another
While you always gazed around in reluctance.
It has become a house now,
yet always trying to illustrate a reason to make it home.
You get there after a long while,
assuming you have got a license.
You try to hide there, yet go there to hide.
you act as a passer-by smoker
Yet, a ring of smoke you leave over…
If smokes could carry thoughts and desires
then may be,
someone can smell it
and inhale what I had to exhale…