No one told me there would be days like this. Days when I do not want to listen to music. Bring the headphones to office, there’s music aplenty all begging to be heard and all day I look at the headphones forlornly on top of my computer CPU and I never once reach for them, never want them but I will be bringing them here again tomorrow. Weathered battered friends of many months, black muffs slightly coming off, you been with me through the most noises and now all I seem to want is silence and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days when I come in, sit down in the seat I once coveted, hey, even made a few not like me, and I don’t know where the day went, I’m getting up to go, the day is done and it seems I did not sign in for this day. But it is not just this day, many days, I come here and it seems I did not come, how strange, I’m not drunk I know. The days pass with my back to the window and though I hear the drizzle that comes more often this year than it ever has and though I hear the laughing children’s voices chasing after their feet on slippered gravel outside, that old gray Mercedes Benz coughing to start and sputtering--he’s tinkering with it again, the scent of boiled maize floating basket-by, I never turn around and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days like this when I see her everyday and I see the cad she thinks I’m in her eyes but I will not do anything about it, like it was not me that was there. She greets me and my sometimes grunted reply does not betray that I have heard her voice in cries that made my heart leap, made her laugh afterwards when I asked her whether I could patent that. That was me. But I sit here, days on days, Lord knows I know how many times she has run to the bathroom and everyone asks her why she does not like her bright floral dresses anymore, they miss her lunchtime chatter, I did that, I could bring it back, but I don’t and days pass and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days when I look into my once coffee cup but there are no stain marks around the rim now, I have not drunk coffee in months and when Undo called, he wondered maybe days are like this because I have not been drinking coffee. I have not thought about that. I only get my cup out, put a teaspoon there, a teabag too, my buns black kaveera-packed aromatic infront of me and it will be hours before I can get up to go to the dispenser, maybe there’s hot water there, it doesn’t really matter because I don’t care and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days when fingers fly over keys on this board, the tap-tapping announcing BUZY! here, it ain’t no lie, see how fast I finish all the work you give me, you wonder did I go to secretarial school but not once am I smiling, you’re reading, amazed, you have done it again you claim, I haven’t. Or maybe I have. It’s no pride or game or anything, I don’t want to look it over, and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days listening without listening, maybe I don’t want to hear more, maybe I have already heard it all before, maybe it saddens me that you of all are bringing to me the realization that this is it, this is life, I’m in suspended grace, the fall will come whichever way I duck and days past are with me unbidden unexamined when self-summoned, I stopped lying I was in hibernation, this is all there is, full-stops don’t make me cringe anymore there’s no startled realization of that and I don’t know why.
No one told me there would be days like this. Days standing leaning in the doorway, I have opened the cream-white metallic door, I’m not through my phone-book scrolling, I’m taking in the sun, tired of wearing this woolly sweater thing, and the self- secret smile on my face is not fake. Undo just survived a death-scare and The Phantom had a baby, and that makes me so happy and I don’t know why. We out!