The Art of Living

I had slept

Without a mosquito net

On my first day in the new city

Did I say slept?

That isn’t even an exaggeration

That’s an utter lie

The room, the cot, the night, the sounds

The earth itself

May have slept

Me and the mosquitoes didn’t

We fought

And I was not deadly bruised

I was totally mauled

The next morning saw me

At the nearest mall

Searching for a mosquito net

Then on every night

I would spread the mosquito net

Over my bed stead

And by that time

All the mosquito’s in the room

Would be inside it

Happily  I would close the net

Insert all the corners under the bed

And sleep on the floor