Soul Stripping on the Net

  It was a boring night, full of light, just like any other before and many more to come. The bland, stark, moodless white light from the tube and the power-saving CFL both bathed the room from two different angles.   The windows still showed a black vision outside. The whiskey still made its pit-stop in the glass before reaching my stomach. The music also remained the same, on loop. It was the same track that smothered the room every night, in perfect harmony with the lonely vibe emitted by the four other empty rooms, themselves black, acting as an extension of the night outside, clawing its way inside. A random mosquito did buzz in some corner. But insects are poor company, and especially bad at conversation. Add to that fact that there are times in the day when waiting for replies seems tedious. People tend to not reply at ‘odd’ times in the middle of the night.   The mind is a strange and terrible mass at such times. Malleable enough to convince itself the o...

  Love. There. The first word has to be that. So what if I have never experienced it? Rather, I have, but unfortunately have never been on the receiving end. I am not a romantic. But if my four-line poem has to go viral on instagram, this was a good start. Or even on twitter for that matter. But why an entire line? Just random words strung together would do, my glass of wine recommended. Four words-four lines. As long as someone with a good number of followers liked it, there was potential. Hell, if people’s self-evaluated sob stories or woke posts can attract reactions, why not? I am not 8facts or urbanfacts, I can write unverified randomness. A host of hashtags are a sign of legitimacy. Anyway, Love. Hmm. What next. This wine is nice...Oh! Love. Like a lonely wineglass. Or better, Like a lonely glass of red wine. Yeah. Fill it with visuals. Sure, can add one of those colourful heart stickers. There might even be a wine-glass clinking edit sticker when I...