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 ?





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