It has been some years since we've been living together
I can't quite recall how we met
One thing is certain, I wasn't a little girl anymore.
It wasn't at a party, I seldom socialise.
Now that I'm trying hard I remember,
it was at Nowhere,at Nothing.
both of us masked,deception in vain however.
Not the most pleasant of encounters,the Stranger scared me
the enigmatic smile and the distant eyes.
I had kept quiet and walked away.
Next morning I awoke dripping in sweat-
the Stranger's face flashed first on my empty mind
Couple of moments later I regained reason,
filled my barren hall of thought,made some decisions.
I would go out to meet the World today.
Lost at a busy bus stop I wondered,Where.
And there again the wretched face! He strode across,
his gait so elegant that vexed me more.
I leapt onto the bus that stopped first,
before the mysterious man could follow,before he called out.
The day sped forth,poured people cars sights and sounds.
Soon I stood at the same old place where
the six-fifteen would take me Home.
I took the seat by an aging window,by a changing world,
watched the shrinking skies and a sinking sun, and thought of Tomorrow.
I was seeing myself at a distance when an uncalled chill clutched my heart
The Stranger! I fled!
In weeks that followed I saw him again,everyday and everywhere.
This stalker I described no one believed or cared.
I took to the normal life to fight my illness-
I worked,ate,slept,dreamed ,laughed,wept.
Many good months later into the new regime I felt choked,
strangled and suffocated by an odd feeling.
Ask me not why, but I missed the face.
Of course I knew where to find him,I knew his name.
He wouldn't leave,seldom do such things leave.
He'd be waiting at the Crossroads, Indecision, in Loneliness.
Or probably with Fear and Confusion,or Hope and Faith,
for they are his usual companions on our encounters.
So I travelled to the seaside,alone.
And walked past the Dreamers and the Escapists
and reached my share of sand to stand upon
and gazed at the far horizon to which
crimson clouds raced,and then..
And then I felt the hand of Uncertainty close upon mine.
Every morning I awake to Uncertainty.
Uncertainty I have grown to love
but never understand.
I can't quite recall how we met
One thing is certain, I wasn't a little girl anymore.
It wasn't at a party, I seldom socialise.
Now that I'm trying hard I remember,
it was at Nowhere,at Nothing.
both of us masked,deception in vain however.
Not the most pleasant of encounters,the Stranger scared me
the enigmatic smile and the distant eyes.
I had kept quiet and walked away.
Next morning I awoke dripping in sweat-
the Stranger's face flashed first on my empty mind
Couple of moments later I regained reason,
filled my barren hall of thought,made some decisions.
I would go out to meet the World today.
Lost at a busy bus stop I wondered,Where.
And there again the wretched face! He strode across,
his gait so elegant that vexed me more.
I leapt onto the bus that stopped first,
before the mysterious man could follow,before he called out.
The day sped forth,poured people cars sights and sounds.
Soon I stood at the same old place where
the six-fifteen would take me Home.
I took the seat by an aging window,by a changing world,
watched the shrinking skies and a sinking sun, and thought of Tomorrow.
I was seeing myself at a distance when an uncalled chill clutched my heart
The Stranger! I fled!
In weeks that followed I saw him again,everyday and everywhere.
This stalker I described no one believed or cared.
I took to the normal life to fight my illness-
I worked,ate,slept,dreamed ,laughed,wept.
Many good months later into the new regime I felt choked,
strangled and suffocated by an odd feeling.
Ask me not why, but I missed the face.
Of course I knew where to find him,I knew his name.
He wouldn't leave,seldom do such things leave.
He'd be waiting at the Crossroads, Indecision, in Loneliness.
Or probably with Fear and Confusion,or Hope and Faith,
for they are his usual companions on our encounters.
So I travelled to the seaside,alone.
And walked past the Dreamers and the Escapists
and reached my share of sand to stand upon
and gazed at the far horizon to which
crimson clouds raced,and then..
And then I felt the hand of Uncertainty close upon mine.
Every morning I awake to Uncertainty.
Uncertainty I have grown to love
but never understand.
Comments
Post a Comment