Dear Monday,
You arrive. Crisp and crunchy.
Stay for exactly 24 hours.
And then leave. Unceremoniously.
Only to arrive again a week later.
Repeat yourself like a ritual.
Your clockwork is precise.
And you manage to overwhelm in every single visit.
Nothing deters you. Neither the infamous Monday jeers.
Nor the extra dullop of fondness for weekends.
Duty bound workday.
Frigid and frozen.
Keeping us on our toes.
Deriving sadist pleasure by grilling us.
Throwing a new surprise every time and thrashing all our preparations.
You are needed, yet not so needed.
Like a mysterious puzzle waiting to be unraveled.
Could we do a little bonding over a cup of coffee?
Or would that be like asking for too much.
Hark! The rhythm
Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...
Monday, January 19, 2015
Ritual in repeat : Monday's measly minutes #8
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.