Days I spent
Finding excuses to procrastinate;
After the lunch
Or Netflix again
Or a bit more research
And then ofcourse
Netflix yet again,
So many days I have thought
Passing by the same old roads
Eyes seeing everything new
yet registering every thing same
Time flying by
As I think
coming from different corners,
How do I weave a story out of them?
Plain and simple
I can understand
and yet can’t translate.
As the clock’s hands tick by
And I think
sitting by the window
breathing in the air
listening to the music
Memories of green farms and rustling leaves
Blue sky dotted with gray monsoon clouds
As I gaze
I think even more
About the people I have found interesting
The people I want to write about
About the places
About my life
About their lives
About changing the world
About the changing world
About being immortal in this universe
And yet utterly
Probably it’s time to stop
And turn all that thinking into prose
I miss the days when the words would just flow
and won’t stop
pushing me to write
till late into the night
words flowing like music
words moving like dance
words coming straight from the heart
words making an honest art
How do I weave the fabric of my mind?
How do I dye it with the ink of my pen?
How do I?
When there is so much
And when the nib touches the page
The magic disappears.
So close, yet so far
trying to relive through the moments that will never come back,
Going distant, and distant and distant
like the milestones along the road growing small…
I am gazing through the back seat of a car,
and slowly forgetting where the milestones are…
it’s not fair,
these images in my head,
some existing and some diminishing
transforming into the vivid images of a beautiful dream I will soon forget,
it hurts when memories exist,
it hurts even more when they slowly fade away;
My brain in a pitiable auto format mode,
only so much of Terabytes it can accommodate!
but son! We can go to the front seat and drive!
Look out for the milestones that will grow big instead of small,
We will make note of each one of them
until we pass by and again forget them all,
but don’t worry the road won’t end,
it simply won’t,
maybe the never ending journey won’t make sense,
maybe the past will haunt again,
maybe the future won’t seem bright
especially with beautiful images of the trail behind splashed all over inside,
maybe chaos will forever be chaos,
maybe the noise will never turn into symphony,
So what, son, so what?
come to the front seat,
don’t be seated at the back,
your reasons to stay are good,
and I have nothing better to argue,
but don’t waste too much time connecting the dots,
it will never make sense when you will want it to,
come at the front, we will have fun,
We will never talk about the dots!
We will never talk about the road!
And trails shall become a map, and dots an image,
One day, one day out of nowhere…
when you would have forgotten that you ever cared.
Come with me, oh, dear! Let me take you there,
This world isn’t good for you, it’s greedy and unfair,
Come with me to the place, where sun rises up high,
Enlightening the buried hopes in hearts of you and I,
Where greed has no place,
Where anger has no face,
Where clouds shower happiness, high up from the sky..
Come with me oh dear, where nights are not dark,
Where moons shines up so bright that even dawn blush to embark,
Come with me to the place where there will be no more pain,
Just close your eyes and dream and don’t wake up again.