Quarantined

About three months ago a year crept in,
with wine and fireworks they welcomed it,
“Happy New Year” they merrily quipped,
would there be any refund now
on all that they bought and lit?

You didn’t know that a microbe so small
could kill thousands and freeze your life,
parks, bars, clubs and pubs
and every place which were fun or cool
would someday become deserted and dreadful.

Twelve days it has been
and you are stuck in your room
none to meet, nowhere to go
the nature might be rejoicing but
people are scared and in gloom.

Companions you now have are
your gadgets and the internet,
but how long can you endure the screen
for your eyes pain or you get bored,
like every thing loses charm, if overdosed.

You remember some quote that said
…rich is a man with
a library and a garden…
you look around and discover,
you just have two gadgets and a bed.

The day ends and you prepare to sleep,
tucked in your bed you recall and draw
the canopy of your family tree,
do you feel like you might be
it’s last branch that dangles free?


© Barnadhya Rwitam

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