#65 The Boy Walking in Time

Once upon a time, there was a boy
He walked on and on,
To reach a destination he never had.

Where was he going? He didn’t know.
What was the reason? Nothing kept him home.
How long would he walk? Who knows, it’s life.

Through the ups and downs, mist and rain,
The boy still walked on,
To a land unknown.

Five years ago, the boy met a woman
She hid behind a lot of mysteries, she was the unknown,
She was the Princess of the Clouds!

She asked where he was headed,
The boy couldn’t respond, he said he only walked
She smiled and said, I’ll walk along.

The boy stopped on his tracks,
Lost his desire to walk anymore,
He knew now he was home.

Now, five years later,
He comes back home one more time from another walk,
Will everything be the same?

It’s late night, travellers find rest in the sarai
The boy must walk on,
He has a place to reach tonight.

This time he knows his destination,
He knows the way and the reason,
Tonight the boy walks on, he must reach home.

Truly said, home is where heart is,
The boy realised, “my heart is in the East, buried far beneath,
Where Princess of the Clouds lives!”
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#16 Reverting from the language that I was taught

One by one I have spent
Feelings of great degree
On you, on you, on you.

Do you even understand,
What I am trying to relate,
And the half that remains unsaid?

Writing comes naturally, they said,
Yet they tried teaching how to write!
It never helped me learn, to express myself.

I respond only when someone asks me a question
Like a humanoid built to task, emotionless and inanimate.
I still cannot write.

My language is not my own,
This, I was made to know and use
Now I remember not what my language was.

Do you know what words I called out,
When I was just a child?
They said it was gibberish, meaningless.

But that was my language, the one I was born with
I learnt it myself without any help
For it made perfect sense to me.

Then they came, with books and notes
Carefully calibrated stuff to clog my mind
To make me forget the innate divine.

I was caged to profession
Of learning, forgetting, and learning
Things that I never felt any desire for.

Now, I might be a failure, in their view
Still I deny to live like them
And give myself up to the claim, that knowledge is everything.

I am not a slave, and I believe in myself
I will know from my own experience
I will learn my way to express myself.

So I will write and come back to you
With knowledge that I have gained
To counter all that they have taught us through the time.
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#4 Moth’s life

Fly, moth, fly,
Fly to another sky
One that cannot be torn
Away from under your wings.

Moth, look up
There’s hope in the sun
It doesn’t hide your beauty
The glow of life in tranquility.

Never stop your pride, 
Shades of darkest colours
Expressions to unsaid emotions
Proudly sketch what you need to feel.

Be not vain
Like a butterfly’s false beauty
Lasts hours in an entirely stalled life
Be what touches more than eyes can see.

Going up and up
Never look down or behind,
For what of life has been left is gone
Like chances that matter not anymore.

There is little of life
In every flutter of your wings
So be not ashamed to paint life
And spread around the joy of living. 
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