Cracking Fingers

Staying at home makes you wonder how lives are shaped out to be for us all in some way or the other. One wonders if they will stick themselves to the television, watching emotional soaps and more emotional news channels. Or will I wake up at 4 in the morning to check if the water has risen to the tank or not. Everyday is a worry and is a bliss at the same time. Fruit vendors and local servants are the guests of honour while we deal with bugs and hunger pains as our enemies. Loud music and market food are hated beyond the geriatric disorders. Keeping away from the intellect and waiting for the water to heat up.

Sometimes, they say you are nothing compared to what you are now when you see the world outside. But you live in the world inside and you see yourself as an entity occupying a certain amount of volume. If that volume were made empty, i.e. ceasing to exist. How much would a difference would it make ? Would memories matter, would thoughts matter ?

The way the hair looked or the stubble grew. The way the pimples bursted or the feet smelled. They are all but strings being pulled from a single ball of wool. Throw the ball out of the window and the rest shall trail.

A lot of nerves are tested in life and its hurdles.

Where do they go when you're at home ?