A Boozer's Joy
There comes the evening, unrolling its silken cover.
by Ajit Das
The dark deepens; noise recedes into the distance.
I’m alone, left to myself and the sinking silence.
Slowly a feeling of loneliness creeps within me.
I reach out to my beloved brand of whisky,
open the bottle, pour a drink and gulp it down;
then another peg and I trip into a mood of booze.
Drink-fuelled happiness insulates me from worries,
releases pent-up feelings on flights of imagination.
Self-esteem gets a boost over self-denial.
It’s an illusion that evaporates as I hit the bed.
When I wake up the morning after with hangover,
I peep into the mirror and see in my glassy eyes
sobriety treading on the heels of inebriated joy.