Can’t complain
I can taste the Biriyani masala.
I can breathe, but in doubt.
Can’t complain yet.
I got the first jab.
I can spray, pump and squeeze
My orange-scented sanitiser
Can’t complain.
I can be choosy about brands
and dispensers and ask
“Alexa, find me an orange-scented sanitiser!”
Of Hyper ventilation and panic attacks
Young Rithwik is panting.
Can’t complain, I can breathe.
He is just 21!
But my grandpa left us.
Can’t complain, he was 86.
Still, my Amma's house smells of his shirt.
Can’t complain. I’m home.
Aunt Laali is in quarantine
her beloved in the ICU
Both sobbed in solitude.
Can’t complain. I see 99 on the oximeter.
But he’s gone.
The professor failed at it.
O2 is nowhere in the air!
Rose’s son would turn three at least
When I’d visit him unmasked.
Can’t complain. I can double-tap
their feeds and reels of birthday blasts.
Can’t complain. I can tune this lyric
publish and await likes.
Can’t complain
Of love,
Of art,
The world hasn't drowned ever.
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