She held that mug
brimming with a piping hot brew
fresh and as aromatic as it should be
strong and flavorful,
and overpowering
She took a big gulp
let it wash down her insides
and she put it back on the table
to let it linger for a while
while the froth died down
and the heat dissipated
Held the newspaper in her hands,
outstretched,
expecting it to deliver something new,
and exciting,
But then again,
same clutter
Same old riots
murders and bombings,
rapes and killings,
Godmen play with emotions
and comics turn chicken,
waiting for the culling
Rampage in a temple,
Or rage on the road
Subjugation of women
or stereotyped menfolk
What is good?
What is bad?
What is ugly?
She didn’t have a clue
But she knew one thing,
it is time to drink up that brew
and make hay
while the sun still shines
“And yeah !
damn you !!”
She said,
to the newspaper
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