the same lane, the same trees, the same bus stop for years n years…the same people, the same view, the same bus for years n years………then too so different is each ride and so different is each experience……….while waiting: the same stories, the same conversation, the same bus horn for years n years, the same seat, the same route, the same bus ticket for years n years………then what is so different on each ride and for each experinece……..while travelling: I ask my self every now n then…the answer i get…is very strange….everything is same…nothing is different…its just me who has changed with the different experience…does this happens to u……
Words flowed incessantly then, tongue tied now,
things that seemed so simple then,
are today clouded by the artifacts of complexities..
The tranquility is lost,
all that emerges is a sea of neutrality.
But even as I stand on the shore,
I can see the neutral waters changing colours,
once sombering down, rest hostility,
raising again a hue of confusion.
Confusion…. that can only be resolved by words,
but today the words are lost.
When they flowed is now a forgotten past,
today all that remains is the present which is…. tongue tied.
What I have gained I have never counted,
what I have lost is too painful to remember,
the essence is “me”, and that is the present,
and the long road that lies ahead,to be conquered, to be left behind….
And I walk forward in wanderlust,
covered with a sheath of memoirs of time,
when I had a destination,
when I had lost “myself” ,
only to find “myself” a lost identity that I’ll cherish forever.