By Saima Tazreen
Dimmed lights and dusty window ledges
Gradual ticking sounds as the wall clock handles cradle.
Once white walls stained with the patina of time and misuse,
All pairs in one direction, but minds wandering far from current dues.
My eyes rest on a shirt hanging behind the whiteboard
All curious as to who left it to walk out the wooden door.
Nodding my head at every question, like maybe I know all the answers;
Trying fruitlessly to focus, forcing my brain to accept those Fourier Transforms.
Maybe I’m not the only one in the room
Glazed under the complex mathematical ‘shrooms.
Exponentials, inverses, even and odd signals
Fly over our heads, despair etched on our hovering thought bubbles.
Every mind is drifting away from this white walled prison
Thinking “what are we even doing?”…while wandering the stoned horizon…
It’s finally 12:40 pm, and hurried packing commences
An unanimous sigh erupts as we are done with these nuances!