Thank You
Leave your education, designation, denomination,
Your bank balance and clout, at the gates
Where uniformed guards pat you down
Wordlessly, before you proceed.
Because, none of it matters once you find yourself in the
Echoless chamber.
Up above, a lone ceiling fan
Creaks heavy with resignation,
Offering little respite to
The bodies huddled underneath,
Clamoring for space
On the slatted wooden benches.
In the great hall nearby, convened
Ordinary humans, tasked with the extraordinary.
Dressed in black garb, white collars,
And an all-important air,
They make a living out of blurring lines,
Molding the truth,
And finding the grey areas
That best suited their agenda.
As time wears on in the echoless chamber,
Exhaustion spills out in a hundred little ways.
While some guard themselves with masks and sanitizer
