I did possess many diaries
A diary of visits to parks, restaurants, cinema,of picnics
I had a scrap book of parking tickets for a cinema
Bills of a restaurant, flowers given by the hermit
In a temple, feathers collected in bird sanctuaries
Hall tickets of the examinations I passed….
I hoarded memories.
As though someone could steal them from me….
I even stuck pictures of hearts, leaves, my own little poems behind these
Lest I forget the feeling…
Time did stamp most of these mementos with betrayals
I began to steal the feelings from these memories
Tearing off pages
Throwing away thoughts in a flowing river
Drowning dreams in sleeping tablets
Erasing ambitions with routine
Substituting love with duty
Replacing kisses with verses
Melting embraces in lonely blankets
Transferring love to pebbles of Zen
Now I understand that language can translate
solitude in to words
If words can stand alone why did I translate ?