Ego's perspective

am a whore of emotions Cheaper than I'd like to be Going through the motions My existence an apology I am a petrol pump of affection Where faces do briefly stop Refueling smiles of empty transaction My heart a misplaced prop I am a delivery boy of assurance Faster than I'd like to be Ready at their doors with abundance And the Price they say, i agree. I am a first aid kit of consolation Fully stacked and ready for use Comforting bandage of affirmation Eager recipient of their unhealed wounds I am the second prize in elections Tha back-up plans to hopeful dreams The instant coffee and powdered milk I am the shop they run into from rains The shade of the tree on the side of the road The reluctant option to a failed choice I am the prostitute of life Too guilty to live Too hopeless to die I exist for the sake of others Once im useless I'll live for myself.

 “I know he has one. I’ve seen him write on it when I was a kid,” a voice cried out from one of the rooms upstairs in that nalukettu. The house was searching itself one could say, as if a man was searching for answers within himself.  Sun trekked through the sky and reached its peak, everyone in the house heeded the call of hunger. Except for one young man. “"Why is he so adamant about finding that old thing, assuming it even exists?” an elderly man spoke sitting down. “He wants to show it off when he joins the party tomorrow. What else can create a bigger wave than donating the personal diary of a freedom fighter and the best friend of a great martyr?” a motherly voice spoke, coming out of the kitchen with trays and dishes of scented food in hand. The little girl at the table took a bite out of the pappadom and smiled cutely to avoid punishment. When she felt her mother's eyes on her face she asked her father to explain why grandpa was such a big name in the village.  Ch...

  “You four bring disgrace to all students,” Professor Steven said, his face twisted in mild disgust, though his voice remained calm. “Drinking without sharing with your teacher.” “Professor Steven, you’re late. We were just about to begin. Close the door,” Matt grinned holding up the bottle of expensive vodka one of his many lady admirers sent him “Oh, come on. You know I hate vodka.” The professor sat down with a sigh. “We might have some brandy left from yesterday,” I offered, looking at Alex. Alex looked at me asking with his eyes why I can’t just keep my mouth shut. hesitated before pulling out a half-full bottle behind the bookshelf, clearly stashed away for himself. We passed it around, laughing under the dim lights of the island hut. We were here to assist Professor Steven's research into Maldives oceanic bio-life. The storm had knocked out the satellite phone and antenna. We were stranded with no outside contact for at least two days. Tony took the last swig of...

  I crossed the fence to my best friend's house and walked in without a purpose. His sister smiled at me, taking a break from sweeping. Her smile was gentle and warm, but those who knew her well knew she had teeth behind those lips. A long time ago, she caught me and him touching each other. I returned her smile genuinely and went in search of him in his room. I never needed permission to enter this house. Having my second breakfast with him, we went out, as we always do. But what we do always changes. Sometimes we smoke in the abandoned roofing tile factory, sometimes we play cricket with the other kids till the owner of the paddy field chases us away. One time we even walked to the nearest town on a whim, which was about 50 km away. We did everything together since we were children. Today the adventure was of a romantic nature. The new love of his life was going to the temple, and obviously, like any other "naadan lover-boy" we stalked her. He already wrote a disgusti...