The Pizza Box

You clutched hard onto the cardboard box with a pizza within. The other hand held a tin of red sweetened water and white soft tissues. This was not the time to pick the oregano seasonings. The mind was too busy with several other things, chief among which was the conundrum about larger choices that could decide where you went. You wait there with no sense of urgency but with gloom written large across your face. You saw the crowd lunging at the two blazered men albeit in different circles; you were standing in one of them. You told yourself what was happening around you wasnt honest – largely because there was lacking an honesty in intent. Or was it just you crying sour grapes? Your mind shouts within its confines – An emphatic no! Would you do this to get your name on a white sheet of A4 paper pasted on that notice board? But it was more than that – it could mark a new path. But what journey would it be that were to be founded on such premises. You ignore the rush of new shirts joining the circle – you retreated. With head bowed low, you walked away – heart heavy with thoughts and emotions you didnt have the strength to fathom. You sat on that concrete ledge and finished the circular, cold flour with assorted vegetables with a generous overdose of onions and tomatoes. You managed to pick the seasoning this time. You walked back slow to the room. Head still held low and heart still heavy with all those feelings. You told yourself – atleast you werent dishonest! Lights off, sleep is a good healer of open wounds pierced deep within the recesses of your mind – atleast if only till you woke up. From other part of the block – the cacophony of noises coming continued – Trance music! You went forward and latched your door from inside…