The world will be there after you go missing,
no one on the street will miss you,
the Kirana kaka will forget your face,
the chicken seller will not stop selling meat,
your office id card will not function after you are gone,
they will send a message for the deceased employee
and a generic e-mail will circulate in everyone's inbox
your boss won't read it, it will hit the spam,
he will be in haste for the next meeting.
and your space will be given to the new intern.
The grave will be yours, and everything around it,
you won't get a call or no will call you for a Saturday night outing,
the WhatsApp number will be silent,
as the moments will pass and turn into years,
your Maa will hear the doorbell ring,
and wistfully look at the bike keys lying unattended,
a tear will fall and reach the tiles,
she may never be your mother again,
and neither you the son.
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