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Cliffette's Journal

(From the Diary of Nirmita Sarma, my roommate, my skinmate)

No sleep all night, no stars either.

Wake up with a conscience.

Of classes I’ve missed,

That haunt.

But can’t remember either,

What I’ve gained. Loss, only loss.

Winds beat against the closed window glass;

But no time.No time, to watch the morning birds flock

The barren rooftops.

Coming from the land of tea gardens,

No chance, I have, of finding the cold tea here,

Appealing anyhow.

No time to look into the mirror,

To check if I’m not stunted anymore.

The pile of sheets of literary criticisms,

Not quite ready yet, lies under my couch–

Along with a big box of stale cigarettes.

I’m late. No time for a shower.

I’m late!!! No music now too.

Hire a three wheeled cab,

Since I can’t miss another class.

Hand over the change to the greedy cabbie.

Even gave away my…

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