Quest

Where was I?

How far, how long have I traveled? How many mornings have I seen? How many evenings have I passed? How many nights have I played hide and seek with sleep?

On my way were the springs, where ideas were born, or should I say "sprung from the spring"?

Restless rivulets ferried them to their unknown destinies.

The rivers chiseled them, polished them.

Then the Sea, stretched afar till the eyes can see, with its open arms embracing, sheltering them with her lap.

It is here they say the streams merge, complimenting and supplementing each other.

Where am I now?

On the beach I stand.

A loner looking at the waves his ideas have created, trying to place them in their respective slots.

They vie with each other and come rumbling down falling on the beach the very next moment.

They stretch themselves, prostrate at my feet honoring me.

Perhaps, a tribute to me. After all, I am their father, their reason to be, so I think.

Perchance, as if destined, couplet from an old song blares from the transistor in Joe's ramshackle shack.


hogaa masiihaa saamane tere
phir bhii na tuu bach paayegaa
tera apana khuun hii aakhir
tujhko aag lagaayegaa*


How long, before they disown me?
The quest continues.
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* An arms-length from the angel, you may be
yet, what is destined, shall happen
It's the one borne of your blood
who will finally light your pyre.