Waiting.....

This part of my life is called waiting.

This is similar to that feeling that made me have sleepless nights just before the exam results would be there.

Do I do decently? That normal expression for those average students out there who may be excellent students in their own right and could tell you amazing nuggets of knowledge that was not in the school curriculum?

Do I do fine? That expression for those students who have aced the exams but couldn't find a place where they were promised by their parents, that fabled place of happiness which they bartered guitar lessons and football sessions for?

Do I fail? That expression where I have just passed through like the countless cattle of people. Who will never matter according to their parents or society because a piece of paper has written in on stronger markings than the birthmark I have on my left thigh or that hamstring after the cricket match that let me tell you I won.

This part of my life is called waiting.

Waiting to fit into the shoes of a male because my father led by example.

Waiting to fit into the role of a son because my mother did not have me 9 months in her stomach and I can never forget about it.

Waiting to be the perfect loyal man to the perfect girl because infidelity or sporting a bit of male chauvinism in any way would give rise to the idea that I am a despised being.

This part of my life is called waiting

For things to churn out between the days that go by and will pass by.

Waiting for that illusion of happiness that I think is mine but has thorns planted around it.

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