Monsoon Road Trip

images(148)Gray skies

Stretched beyond the rainy windows.

Time flies

As within a deep sigh grows.

It is time

The stage for the performance is set.


Mood and music have now met.

A slow tune

Throws open a torrent of memories galore.


That time doesn’t heal, but grows more.


Made, pass by in an uninterrupted sequence.

And regrets

Too march by with embarrassing frequence

The fault

Was, and had no doubt always been, mine.

Hence the gall,

To blame life or fate was never in line.

I sought

To seek the centre of meaning outside

And things got

Ugly, for no fault of the other side.

It was entirely

A pathetic attempt to project, on my behalf

What I needed direly

On any entity that wasn’t me, but now I laugh.

It is a truth that no one can run away from,

At some point in the course of one’s life,

One has to face the spectre of existential angst,

One must come to terms with life,

One must seek and find meaning.


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