Sangeeta, the post asks, is she real? Is her future just whispers on the wind? Memories rise, but oblivion swallows, an exclusive for Different Truths.
A face, I remember
A movement, I remember.
Gone are the alleys of oblivion
And disappeared into nothingness.
Questions loom and prick...
Am I the Me?
Will the Earth keep the imprints of my footsteps?
Will the wind whisper the melody?
Of missing notes.
Long after I cross the timeless yards of space,
The material body will dissolve,
So where will I remain as the ME.
Unsure and uncertain about
The pace I still have to cover
And the fall of the curtain.
Today, my dreams of tomorrow
Are evanescent,
I see them fleeting on the
Foggy, bleak tomorrow.
Today I can hear the tendrils of my heart say:
In unison with the universe.
What an abyss I created!
In my real existence.
In my belief in the existence of ME,
In my physical dwelling.
Picture design Anumita Roy