I drove through the clouds at Khandala*
fluffy white shapes around me,
the valley below, strong and silent
I was young, with aspirations and dreams,
floating through the foggy density.
feeling droplets on an extended palm,
watching those catalyse creativity.

The next time around,
dark clouds acquired menacing shapes
threatened to engulf me in obscurity.
Darkness and Depth of the Valley was
Permanence in face of adversity.
I did see light at the end of the tunnel,
It opened hazy chapters with low clarity.

Today, the sun is shining bright
I only see unforgiving rocks beneath.
if the car tumbles down the spiral road
I’ll welcomed by tombstones and a wreath.

The Highway has become an ExpressWay
cutting short distance and time.
Youth has given way to Maturity.
aeons in between now sublime.
How many more thinking moments?
I drive on undeterred, but with no Certainty.

*Khandala is a hill resort on the way from Mumbai to Pune, two metro cities in India.


Tale Weaver #197 at MLMM




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