White Dust – The Hunger and Agony of an Urban Man

Smokes swaying like a devil, the dim lights are caressing his soul and he is dancing without a valid reason. He is trying to peep noiselessly into his silently throbbing heart. The air is mute tonight; the calling bell is hardly ringing and the boredom is creating a unique sensation. Some filthy thoughts are galloping like hungry horses in his kingdom. The urge for an ecstasy is calling him. He is swaying like smokes, he is feeling the fragrance of his ex lady, and he is grinning without a motivation…

The bright city lights annoys him, the silence of midnight gives him hope. He finds bliss in some sort of detachment; he is the urban man with a frozen soul. He is hungry, he is agonized but still he is alive. He is feeling the unknown. He walks in a greasy road of desire, he juggles between his thoughts. He sometimes loses all his words. The numbness makes him restless and the narcissism becomes his only friend. He gazes silently, he observes from a distance and he stays calm most of the time. Sometimes his self image makes him happy while many a times the ugliness of his face takes away all his late night charm. 

He tries to pamper himself to look like a prince. He wears no perfume. He loves the smell of his sweat; he loves his watery auburn eyes. Scribbling about nothing motivates him. There are good and bad times, there are happiness and melancholy and then there are the others. The whim and fancies of an urban man is typically same but sometimes the forms differ from one another. There are various modes of expression. Some prefer white dust while the others love the smokes…