The Shape Of A Coin Poem by Pinaki Dewan

And so I plunge headfirst softly and silently as a dagger into the roaring waters and find myself in a white room, all the water turning away from my body and forming a feminine shape beckoning me towards it. Sex has always been an escape from reality. I let her have me. But as we kiss, I choke. Choke like a fish out of water. And then I feel a pressure in my chest. I cough out the remaining water and see it is me who brought me back. Beside myself stands a woman of similar shape as the water. But prettier of course. And I get up haggardly and leave with them supporting my two sides. Soon, in the distance, we turn into a ₹1 coin that a child hands over to the shopkeeper for a candy. As the child chews on the candy, he tries to cross the road. He has a home to return to. But there is a biker who has a bet to win. So, the child gets run over. The candy still in his mouth, crushed like himself. A crowd gathers around the body and it is another circle. Another ₹1 coin. The biker is speeding away to his destination. When he reaches it, he finds himself in a room, with white tiles and marble floor. The one behind the computer knows. He has seen the footage. The suitcase has the money. The biker opens it, finds a ₹1 coin in it. Smiles. Thanks the man. Leaves.