Holiday. Poem by Subhadip Bhattacharya

The last resort,
by the riverside drive,
in a private place.
Made me remember the
work that has to be done
at workplace.

Quality time...
the meaning of it,
changed for me.
As well as that of party.

Cleaning the house,
moping, throwing the garbage.
Having a glass of coke.
And partying on the way,
to workplace.

Time seems to stand still,
on a day without work.

And yet, and yet,
we feel like cheated,
in the run of life.
And life forces us,
to keep up the cheat,
in the cheated run,
of life.