“I have seen enough,” he murmurs walking down New Road Gate,
Stops halfway through and glances back at the shop,
The shop still as crowded as it used to be,
People waiting in line, pushing one another to be up front,
He recalls a famous quote, giggles and turns back,
“Ignorance is bliss,” he laughs and keeps on walking,
It was not long ago, he remembers the story on the shop,
“All over media, talk of the town,” he rambles,
He says, “Why am I concerned?” let it be,” and looks around,
For a moment he forgets where he was headed,
“Bit**s, man,” he overhears two teenagers talking about their failed love,
He sighs and whispers “Been there” with a wicked grin on his face,
He walks past Tundikhel, in a crowd pushing people around,
A scene he thinks one sees in a theatre after a movie ends,
Or in an emergency evacuation of a building,
“But, I see it every day,” he rants under his breath,
“Shahid Gate,” he almost bursts into laughter, “How many do we have?”
He thinks, “One is not enough,” and feels good about his sarcasm,
Singh Durbar, he remembers his destination, when an old pal pulls him aside,
He tells his friend, “I got to go now, lets meet up for a drink later.”
“Those MPs are not friendly,” his boss had warned him, “Be professional,”
He walks in with his ID-badge around his neck, and looks around,
“This is where the policies are made,” he feels proud that he is there,
To his utter dismay, he finds nothing but careless group of people,
A security guides him into a waiting room; “Got only five minutes left” his inner self speaks,
He pulls out a paper, and glances quickly, “This should go well,” he feels confident,
As he enters the room, he sees the person he never wanted to see,
He wonders for a bit, recaps and comes back to reality,
“He murdered two people,” he recalls, “I covered that story”
He is sure of what he covered in the past, but the present is still vague,
“How could this guy be the Chief in this office,” he ponders,
Few drops of sweats flowing down his eye-brows; he wipes them, and sits back,
He calms down, and takes a paper out of his pocket,
“So, how did you get here from the crime business?,” his first question was not what he prepared last night,
“No comments,” is what he gets back most of the time,
He panics for a bit, but recalls another quote, and giggles,
“Expect the unexpected,” he stands up, and leaves with a grin on his face.
