No Air

It’s a lovely Saturday night: cool, breezy, but not exceedingly cold. The air smells of joy and jubilation. Living it out good, celebrating life, and taking it easy after a long, tiring week’s worth of hard work.

This was made all the more so as two lovely hits from The Eagles played whist I cycled home.

They reminded me of my dad -we spent many Saturday nights together, drinking, having delicious suppers, and driving home speedily through the streets after that.


But for now, that will all have to remain what it is: a lovely thought, and a memory.

Because for now and until this damn semester is through, there will be no breaks, no time to rest, no free slots to live it out good -there will be no joy.

The sad truth is, I HAD to have the phone play something as I made my way through the modestly lit open areas of upper campus --simply because it felt eery to be walking alone in the silent, empty spaces devoid of people.

The sad truth is, I HAD to stay back and do assignments on a Saturday night.

The sad truth is, these days Friday, Saturday and Sunday means not that the weekend has arriveth, but that there are no lectures or tutorials, and that these are the times that I should use to study or finish up the unending continuum of academic work.

'Give me a fucking break!' has never rang so true.