In a corner of a room lying is the table,

A vase placed on it
A chair besides it,
A cot placed near it,
And
Me sitting on it...
Each morning,
every evening
This is the look of
A room which has
White walls
And glass windows.
The room that's in the corner of the big full house ...

House is filled with voices,
And cooing of babies
And whispers
And laughter
With people that are mine,
With guests that are visiting...
But the white room in the corner
Have just me and my silence.

Its not happening
with me alone
It has happened with many
before me,
It will happen with many
after me
Some will call it fate
Some will call it compulsion..
Sitting here alone
I think,
I have learnt to live alone
I will manage my remaining
life alone
But my son and after him his son
Will they be able to live in
old age alone like me??

Some have all the living relations but house is lonely,
Some don't have any one around and house is silent
Those born in my time have long gone
Those death do us part had too gone away
And I am still alive!!

I write sometimes on the table lying beside
Sometimes a poem
Sometimes old memories
List of old friends
Those who are still alive
Those who are no more...

Here,
I am waiting to become a
photo frame
To be adorned on the wall...
Though in a photo frame,
but waiting to be part of colored walled that's main room of the house,

I am waiting to be once again in the center of whole voice filled house,
I think,
The day I am hanged on the wall of colored room
Knowingly-unknowningly I will become part of there talks too...

I have lived a long time in this white walled room,

Maybe then I will leave this room
Maybe now I will leave this room.

Sparkle In Wisdom
2017