On the shoulders of hope
Despair has a respite.
Hope is a breather for it too.
And like all other breathers
it has a momentary brightness
catching us unawares with
half asleep eyes and spooky poses.
We don't take our snaps in sad times
except when one is on the death bed
and there isn't a photo for the memorial.
Then we rush to click that last snap.
At all the other, less great moments too
we should have our photos taken.
Believe me, look closely
our faces are twice as funny
as they are in the normal times.
In more desperate times
when our minds are tangents
to the circle of insanity
our faces gain a funny shade.
This is true.
Listen carefully
there is laughter in the air
like the buzzing of a bee.
It ricochets right off your face
because when laughter meets the joke
it becomes bigger and bigger
like the growing insanity
and spans till infinity
in a leaky cosmic darkness.
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