A boat starts to sail ,
The tide, Mother of the ride
Makes an effort
And the boat is afloat
And tides being left behind,
The sailor must mourn,
The journey goes on...
Sometimes lonely,
sometimes in company.
Then one day he feels,
The sea is no sea, albeit the tides,
He looks back, and in all sides
Now he takes the charge , and steers his boat
To venture into the deadly storms
He suffers , cries, hates still persists,
Now the tides are gone,
The storms are gone,
And so the company of the known.
He starts seeing his fate,
Boat being his only mate,
He thinks of his mother , and being a tide
Would be better to steer some life,
And then he knows about the Brahman*,
And realised that , it would be a simple barter
For being a tide of the ocean,
merely an illusive departure