VI.

Malls

I hate malls, its chronic organization

the puking orderliness,

depressed shades of

harmonic whites,

beige yellows, and

romatic purples

moving through symmetric aisles.

"What would like to see sir?"

The submissive demeanour,

Yes sirs and ma'ams, and

their matching uniform,

This army of lost faces

that has never known smile.

The hungry, gobbling connoisseurs

Their perhaps too-early examination of fabric

And consistent runs to the change

In where they undress their worries

Their deceits, their personalities

And coat themselves up in vanity on-sale

The out of place loiterers,

serving no purpose

To the gloating economy of

this temple of consumerism

The ones who move around,

Without dreaming, speaking, blinking, or perhaps breathing, these thirsty hungry, uninterested Ghosts.

A purgatory,

Where the signboard reads

Flat offers of 50% at Oxford Shorts

and the range of 4000+ styles,

at Marks and Spencer

To be paid in cash or card, and

Only a few hours of your life.

Please follow the signs and

wait patiently for your turn.

Wait.

Forever.

Ayushmaan Mishra · 2026-06-02