In the claustrophobic cubicle
(the reason none other dare use it)
That is my exclusive toilet,
At the stroke of midnight
We engage in a silent conversation.
I sit on the seat, hardly a foot away from her.
Twisting myself awkwardly, I strain to focus.
in the dim light, her eyes twinkle
As the light of the headlamp lights her up.
I have known her ( or her ancestors) for long.
Very polite, seemingly embarrassed
Having to witness my nocturnal
Passage of the bowels, she pretends
To be busy with cleaning herself up.
Observing her through the camera
I am reminded of the many lonely nights
and days in toilets
I have spent in the company
of ants, spiders
Geckos and frogs
Who sit mute, still, watching me.
She isn't afraid of me; nor am I of her
In that companionable, comfortable
Camaraderie that I feel only with very few -
Dogs, dragonflies and arachnids of different hues.
A cubicle of a toilet is a safe place
For friends, outcasts, to come together.
****** . Balachandran V, Trivandrum 06.02.2019
