Will there be keen ears to hear the lessons by the hair turned grey?
The burning candle flickering through & beyond the pages of yesterday.
Will my dear wait & anticipate another prose about her lovely smile?
Or the kids rejoice to hear my stance on the historical political demise?
Will the people hear about the July of ‘18 when it rained tears?
Or about the second of my fleeting life passed while it has lasted years.
Will the “legacy”: a facade a myth be substantiated by my richness of cars, houses & ventures,
Or will it be measured by the wealth of my shared stories, laughters & adventures
Will my life be immortalised by the likes on my ‘gram?
Or will it be stated by the scars that few see & fewer understand?
Will my life be known as the definition of love by the young & new?
For I travelled a thousand miles, unabashedly, for you.
All roads led to you, all roses your smile.
A life worth spent reminiscing the story of her eyes.
A life of turbulence, growth, revolt & surrender.
But a life, nonetheless, with insight that none of this mattered.
A life that felt proud with its name etched on stars
A life that looked forward, beyond the obsolete past.
A life spent around making the parents proud.
A life of contemplation, redemption, action & doubts.
Family, blood, sweat, tears & fear.
Rock n roll, memories, some far, some near.
A detached monk & an attached civilian.
A philosopher, a traveller, a hero, a villain .
Someone that tried, someone that might.
A rooted plant, a flying kite.
If you try to question, all perspective & subjective opinions about him are false & yet true
Here is the final answer, try & look:
“I am, eventually, ironically & truly, you.”
मंच 