It takes me an entire week to respond to an email sometimes
And 10 minutes to write a poem that wasn't even brewing in my head.

It takes me months to pile needless stuff on my desk
And seconds to misplace the most important documents.

It takes me hours to peel a few pods of garlic
And half an hour to rustle up a scrumptious meal.

It takes me hours to fall asleep at night when I'm tired to the bone
And a couple of minutes when I've already napped in the afternoon.

It takes me an eternity to work up the courage to actually do something
And a few irreplaceable moments to screw the whole thing up.

It takes me pages of endless drivel to communicate the most ordinary things
And one line of clipped words to articulate my most intense feelings.

It takes the loudest of sounds and brightest of lights for me to seek something
And a soft whisper, a mellow glow to make me realise it was there all along.

It takes so much pain and trauma for me to realise I'm hurting
And a glimpse, a whiff, the slightest sound to burst into tears.

It takes thousands of rupees to find the void inside getting deeper
And a few small bucks to fill me up with satisfaction.

It takes months, sometimes years to truly like a person
And just one single, unguarded second to make me turn around.