What we are…….

I walk up to the crossing and look around to see if anyone’s watching.  Some solitude is what I need. I have been passing by this railway crossing since ages. Sometimes moving ahead without a second thought, sometimes swearing under my breath about the held up traffic and sometimes looking at the trains pass by… counting the coaches. They were laden with coal or  most times I would  see people peeping out of the windows if it was a passenger train. Now its all quiet. Deathly quiet.
I walk along the tracks. Jumping on the wooden boards on which the iron tracks are nailed. Gravel fills the spaces. Weeds have made their presence felt after the rains that had been pounding the city. The cigarette I hold between my fingers is just lit…I cannot bring it to my lips as I am reminded of a promise I made foolishly to you. Are you watching? No!
Yet, I try to keep my promises till they start making things impossible to bear….like now.
I stare at the tracks as I chase them. How beautifully they travel together. Bending, yeilding, curving, passing through known and unknown lands , in sun and rain regardless of the world……… walking together…..but never meeting.
I look far beyond and I see them appear to touch each other, at a point that actually does not exist.
We are tracks my love…. parallel.
Complementary.
Never converging.
The cigarette has burnt my fingers….
Love is a dangerous thing.

A WRITERS DREAM

Someday I want to move to a corner of the world where people are hard to come by…hatred comes easy…love needs courage and efforts. It seeks solace. Peace. It reaches you after a lot of struggle and that is what will find it’s way here.. through different souls who dared to try. To fail. Broken hearts in happy faces.
A cosy cabin overlooking the valleys…all the walls lined with books..a fireplace with a small fire that will keep me warm.A patch work quilt thrown over my lap. A book in my hands and hot coffee in my mug. A brass bell hanging outside my door , a small furry friend with a wagging tail….weary travellers stopping by to read a book, rest a while. As they exit….they leave behind  another patch in my quilt of memories….and a ring of the bell to say..” we will be back someday”.
~m

The walls lined up with dreams….