On an urban Saturday evening
the drug of alcohol and loud noise,
and the lit thrill
of a police protected night
dulls our weekday serfdom,
it quells our existential thoughts,
it better maintains the spell –
the weekend keeps us enthralled.

Let us stay indoors
in case we match well
while we swipe right and left,
us disconnect-ed bubbles
floating in private space,
digital daters,
we meet in a virtual haze
fending off fantasies
of instant chemistry and
willing partners
to humdrum exotic foreign vacays.

Let us chat inane,
unmade on long distance beds,
we need only look good in our DPs
while I chat with two,
you chat with four,
our eggs are in many baskets,
our pizzas are in square boxes,
our subscriptions are for binge watches,
we last till 3 before we drop off to sleep,
we dream wet
while we realise it is, but, a dream,
you, and I, millenium rebels,
we just hopped ship
onto another mainstream.

– Anish Vyavahare