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A stack here,
A column there,
Six shelves filled…
And yet the input
Refuses to subside.
An open field, a wide expanse,
A narrow long road,
Never winding,
Never turning.
A mist envelopes
Its’ never-ending path
And gray skies shadow my head.
Amidst absolute quietness
Amidst an eerie surrounding.
I walk on…
I walk on through that
Narrow stretch of road.
Heaving a backpack,
Filled with maps and directions,
Rules and regulations,
Customs and traditions.
Would it not be a joy
To walk unburdened,
To do what the heart desires,
To accomplish
What the mind needs to achieve?
the oil lamp is extinguished
There is but darkness around,
And silence; never-ending.
The landscape is dark,
The mist is black,
The sky, the deepest blue.
Somewhere, near the horizon,
A speck of light
Flickers to life.
A guide? An outpost?
“Walk on,” my heart probes.
“Reach it,” my mind orders.
I walk, I try to reach.
The distance though,
Refuses to shorten.
The sight is not lost,
But the journey wouldn’t end.
A slight pause;
A short rest not granted.
The mind deviates,
The heart pumps and pounds.
And yet, I remain alone,
On that narrow stretch of road.
I struggle hard,
To reach that source of light,
Only to realize,
The presence of
Wrought-iron chains
Binding me, pulling me back.
Weighing me down,
Clamped around
My ankles, knees and wrists.
It is the road that moves on,
And I remain behind.
Restricted is the movement,
But not entirely stopped.
A short pause,
A sneaked rest,
A sly break from monotony;
In short, a DEFIANCE.
I did not reach that light-source,
Nor have the chains freed me.
But, I have been inspired
By this innocent crime,
O’ Guardian’
This little act of defiance,
Has rejuvenated me…


© 2012 Pimmi Nag