FACE

Come morning and there is a knock on your door. You get up to see your doodhwallah’s face first up at daybreak. If you are lucky you see your partner’s face and ask him or her to fetch the milk. In my case it is either my room-mate's face that I get to see or the face of that actresses on the poster on the wall.

Then on there are so many faces I have to face

as I race

with pace

in the city before I retrace

my path back to my place.

We see people grim-faced driving to work, probably thinking about the work for the day, or the boss’ comments or the bad breakfast or cursing the landlord for not attending to the complaints of water supply. One look at fellow commuters gives you sad faces, smiling faces, thoughtful faces, worried faces, aspirant faces, sleeping faces, tired faces, hopeful faces, blank faces, I-know-everything faces, tu-kis-kheth-ki-mooli faces, why-am-I-here faces. There are people with creepy look on their face, forcing you to utter a quick prayer under your breath for safety and peace in the world. Hawkers and salesman with hopes on their faces to make some sales. Grumpy faces, focused faces, tensed faces, angry faces, fuming faces at work.

By the time I return home my face would have gone through a plethora of emotions. Mostly the face would be droopy and heavy. But when I reach home and see that angelic, smiling face of my little baby, all the emotions of the day are washed away, and I am rejuvenated with renewed hope and energy, ready to face the world again the next day.