A Hotel In Paharganj
Paharganj, a budget hotel, a seedy room.
The walls a gray monochrome,
A dull, despairing monotone,
Deepening my own sense of gloom
I wonder whether I should stay in or go out.
Although it’s quite late at night
It’s not dark; there is a lot of ambient light.
Yet I am paralyzed by doubt.
Facts is, I am not one for forbidden pleasures.
I would rather listen to my wife snoring
By my side, I find the sound quite reassuring
Than go after fondling stolen treasures.
You may think my life is boring.
I don’t. I like my dull, old routine.
Tea and biscuits in the afternoon, a nighty cup of ovaltine,
Dravid’s batting, even when he is not scoring.
My evening constitutional in the park, and stories which begin at the beginning
And have the good, old-fashioned happy ending not the latest writing, which keeps you in the dark.
What I don’t like is being alone,
In a society hotel room
With a damp towel in a wet bathroom.
What I don’t like is life’s gray monotone.
