This World Is A Madhouse.2. Poem by Subhadip Bhattacharya

This world is a madhouse,
and I am in a straitjacket.
Of course it loosens up,
when there is a uniform to wear,
when there is work.

When going to work in the morning,
the world seems so vast,
underneath the great sky.
Coming back home, in the evening,
the world seems small as well.

A disease which I have to overcome,
and the world said...
you don't have to painfully look for pain.
The body pain will straighten me up.

I have a phobia that when I wake up,
in the evening,
suddenly I don't know weather it is morning or evening.
A rush hour work,
I panic I will forget all the orders,
standing at the floor, empty handed.
And my Manager will say...
' breathe son breathe.'

Then there are also these petty-coats
strangely tied, and I don't remember
why I was panicking at the first place.