I've drawn down the curtains
on the window of the past
shadows will no longer linger
in my life--- now that I place all my trust

in being oblivious to all scenes of old
people I met, hurts I suffered, pain endured---let all of this rust
away in my new-found freedom
I can escape from self-inflicted sorrow only if I don't live in the past.

This is the road we must part
there's no need to say goodbye
neither you nor I

This is the road we must part
there should be no regret
our past we will forget

This is the road we must part
never again to dream
love was not what it did seem

This is the road we must part
our hearts have reasons we don't know
let nothing be said--let things be so

This is the road we must part
only this we need to know
all love is sorrow

This is the road we must part
here never again shall we pass by
just walk away silently---for love lost you should not cry.

In transit
(in parenthesis--you've not arrived)
waiting time this is
it's as though
time is arbitrarily suspended
and frozen
no forward movement
until the journey is resumed

'in transit'
the hardest test
of patience
whoever you are-
it applies to all--
no exception

and you can't exit
the gate is closed to you
there's nothing you can do

a time for unwelcome reflection
what were you yesterday?
what did you used to be?

what would you be
after transit time?

if
if only
you could grasp
that life is all about
being in transit
with you held in check
with untold possibilities
for change and acceptance
you would rise in triumph
from the ruins of your unhappy past-
a resurrected being
who has mastery over your life
and be thankful
for being kept in transit

only those
who can wait
will be the victors
and will never regret
for being kept in transit.

We were
once upon a time--remember?
but no more
now is our time--forever

all because
tears we shed together
broken hearts once healed
re-love with the most resplendent grandeur.

My heart beat so wildly
as though I was to enter into battle
or to claim the prize of my life-
so eager and exhilarated
euphoric
steeled in will
all my energies in fullest harness
casting all else aside
I promised myself
never to look back
now my hour had come
no moment
could be more glorious and triumphant
( my whole life depended on it)-
I' am arriving
the long-awaited arrival
the past is dead-
goodbye!

the moment came-

my heart all at once sank
I couldn't believe my eyes
it was a cruel blow-
to what I expected- so nasty-
shock was an under-statement
nay, the sharpest insult
and a hateful slap on my tired face

it was but a deserted outpost--
grey buildings falling apart
old papers and brown leaves
blown in the air
dilapidated barns
rusty and ugly machines and tools
bicycles with most parts missing
broken bottles and empty food-cans all over
books all torn and smeared
a maimed dog and a starving cat
sniffing over rotten fruits
and foul-smelling discarded food
watched by an indifferent black crow
on a bald tree by a puddle of stinking water
the inn bore the once-proud words-
'1865--best home for the tired traveller'
now no more than a shack-
history has spoken
almost with vengeance
a **** crowed from nowhere
the farm-gate had fallen on the muddy ground
the thirsty flowers bore dried appearances-
what a painful sight!

Is this a nightmare?

And I thought
this was the end of my journey
and I had come in triumph
to claim my coveted prize-
a new life

and now
reality hit
at the core of my being
as though to say:
' O, your dreamer
you are no more than a little child
who longs for toys to play with
in your loneliness and fancy
life is never a fairy-tale
your journey has not even started'.

Suddenly
dark clouds
flooded the whole sky
a storm was brewing
then the rain pelted
as though in anger
where
where could I hide
as there was nowhere
for shelter?

Dreams I'll collect
and  I'll scatter them among the moon and stars
they will build a castle for our love high up
we'll have wings to fly in freedom without bars

Vows of love I'll collect
into the sweetest bouquet for you I'll weave
my poems I'll gather and with celestial perfumes sprinkle
only this I need to hear: 'My darling,  your love with my whole heart I receive'

In the beginning was words and also at the end
in them we are consumed, scorched and burnt
in the between of love and hate, of sorrow and joy
words ruled all the way and life's most poignant lessons we learnt--

words become us
we are words and thus kept alive
in the beginning was words
and also at the end--there's no escape from such strife.