Fleeting passage

Door knobs sealed, but the door is wide open

Across the dull room, I see a pallid clock

Click, cluck; it resonates, my breath accompanies

A crow bellows but I hear nothing.

The traffic has jammed, honks echoing

People are cursing, a boy whining

Music system has meanwhile occupied them

Traffic police whistling but I hear nothing.

Teens babbling about unfair life, an escaped notice

Volunteers persuading and wheedling to join clubs

The nerve within me convulses, hampering my trod

Chats are surrounding me but I hear nothing.

Pigeons combating outside my casement

Fan rotating noisily, mother beating jowar rotis

Summoning me to eat, the plastic wavering

Hot sounds emerging from my belly but I hear nothing.

Time has turned so rash, neglecting my poor hearing

I am seventeen, wondering when to snog

Though I feel not, these days deviating to become indolent.

Flashbacks are irksome, mending them has been loaded

Wishing to aid myself but the days have outgrown
Ahead I see, but nothing that I can hear.