I was travelling alone, and I talked with myself all through the journey. And the reciprocation of turbulence of thoughts was imprisoned within certain pages. I stopped by at those pages today, while I was tearing them off before putting them on fire. And the pages read :
I sit still, and scenes through my window ‘pass’ by.
Like projection of memories on walls,
Glimpses of my existence in them pass by.
The distant horizon moves with me, like the ultimate goal in my life.
Hills and its ranges, terrain rough and sprawling solitude pass by.
I watch as a viewer, terrains where I had been.
Scraped pieces of my loneliness, my jobless thoughts in them pass by.
Rivulets in their topsy-turvy curves,
Meeting and dividing; behold my soul.
Kinships I had and pain of their losses pass by.
Away from solitude, my eyes snap at commotion,
As the city in energy passes by.
Of all few causes that put us down,
Million reasons to rise and smile pass by.
The obstinacy to laugh, promises to shine pass by.
The shine is in our goal, and the journey is our road to shine.
I still still, and scenes through my window pass by.
I close my eyes slowly,
Dazzles of glistens, sparks of enticement,
Fervor in my goals ‘waltz’ by.
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