The Marvelous Misfit

The alarm sounds,

Chaos erupts in our dome,

I rub my eyes open realizing its time again to change our home.

The baggage has been laid down,

Father is fueled up ready with his military commands,

“Wrap it in an hour, ladies!” he crosses his arms and demands.

I am to turn eighteen in a month,

But all I care for are my handful books,

For when you don’t have friends, you have to find something to which your soul hooks.

As we bow down in reverence,

Unnoticed my ‘favorite book’ slips my hand.

We bid adieu one more time and board the taxi for yet another land.

To be honest it is difficult, for seldom I got familiar to a face,

My buddy list is belittling,

For by the time I gather acquaintance; the clock turns, and we gallop to another place.

Such has been our ride, even the albatross would envy.

Every year and half,

Repacking and rebooting was now an element integrated inside.

At the station I search helplessly;

Mind goes numb, legs tether, and fear strikes me in the face

Realizing what I had left behind.

I can distinctly hear the ground beneath creaking to shatter,

Deafened to my parents’ rants, I pull an about turn,

For without my ‘trusted buddy’ life cannot cater.

Minutes later I am back in the abandoned room

Which was once home,

After a brisk witch-hunt, my hands find my only savored boon.

Flipping the pages open,

I inhale the scent of decaying fiction,

Lost in their world I lose track of time, place and my ability to reason.

Ride back to station is filled with thrill

Adrenaline pumping through my veins,

I jump in last second,

To be greeted and hugged

By a pair of parents looking down upon me with sheer disgrace.

Almost always the railway carriage,

At times via air serves as an anti-dote.

So often the bus,

Even the boat,

Such is the adventure of a military career,

That even before turning eighteen I have seen it all;

From vastly populated cities,

To whereabouts which are so extremely void and remote.

But the job demands, and so we must,

On the bright side;

The mind enjoys the pace, which serves as the much needed thrust.

New places, new people, new languages,

Such delightful are the perks, that despite the hassle, a person just cannot rust.

By the train I see; as described in many books, dusk standing a perfect blend,

So clutching onto my inanimate benefactor,

I savor Mother Nature’s silent symphony, and travel again to my heart’s content.