Did you know, this junction sees it all
Every sufferance, each train of joy
This junction knows, it sees it all
It sees stray encounters sweetunsweet
Of those who meet in roads
Which do not meet
But draw close and diverge
Till the waving of the hands
Is a figure, a line, a dot and sky
This junction sees such passings
Passings tantalisingly close
Heartbreakingly so
But they pass, and this is seen
This junction sees the imprints etched
And sure enough, it sees it erased
It sees stories in the erasing
Stories which leave leftovers
Like remainders in divisions
It collects these leftovers and packs it all
Looks longingly now and then swipes it away
Everything becomes memory now
Everything is retrospect now
In retrospect so much could happen
But nothing could, nothing did
How sad
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3 comments:
pssshhhh.
take a cricket bat and hit yourself over the head once and even those memories will pass.
or, something productive like that is bound to happen.
so all is well.
Neetika: 'Buddha' ghar mein hai but has to do some work occasionally to earn his keep
Ravali: Did that and now am walking around with a bump in my head.
so beautiful. i often wonder what it would be like if street corners could speak~
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