With Myself

Seemingly Real

Stopping for a while, I look down from the bridge. I cannot hear the river flowing by, it must be very deep. I cannot see through the dense cold fog, yet I keep gazing. My footsteps cannot be traced, nor can I trace someone else’s footsteps. A skylark’s song breaks the reverie. What lies at the end? ‘Shush’, I tell my mind. What is the hurry, I question it back; the end is the end.

Taking a deep breath, I start walking ahead. The fog engulfs me for a moment and then disappears just to reveal the endless bridge. My eyes glistens, my mind speaks up, ‘seemingly real?’

With myself accompanying me, I continue walking.

With Myself

The green pond and the green trees can be so different. I was sitting on the stairs and looking at the thick and the pleasing green water when I realised that I am looking through the image in front of me. Everything was hazy for some time and I felt light. A concrete thought broke my imagination and I heaved a sigh. A sigh that meant nothing except the realisation that I am sitting and watching the green water in the pond. The trees were welcoming me and soon I was lost again. Did the time float away or swayed with the leaves? Time, that the people complain about and love and cherish at the same time. But at that moment I was’nt time bound, I was free. Just then or after some time, something musical fell in the pond and I enjoyed it. I started humming and playing with the stick in my hand. Then I dipped it in the pond and swirled it around. The green trees were watching all the time. I was in my own company and the time went by beautifully.