I am late

I think about the lady I met when I was a child,

wandering houses carrying an idol applying vermillion on foreheads as she passed by,

I had nothing to offer, neither to her not to the deity she carried in a golden plate.

Yet we would fall in queue knowing there was something for each of us, a pinch of red colour on our forehead!

I miss seeing her!

Her face reminds me of innocence I lost at a time I can't remember anymore.

Her eyes spoke highly of me but my naivety was never meant to appreciate her unrequited kindness.

I miss seeing her!

And I fear, how many such lives remain where I bargain without knowing I made one.

For I travelled places only to realise I belong to the only place I longed, whereabouts unknown!

I wonder if places and people mean the same.

That reveries overwhelm us about our past,

that we ran not knowing it would catch up with our present,

that it points us to people or places that we are likely to lose in future!

How fortunate or unfortunately wise am I?

I miss someone I never thought I would;

Now I fear losing souls I would die to treasure. 

We prepare for the worst knowing that the worst is yet to come!

I perish with this thought, like every other thought,

The child in me dies every day for I am not childish enough to run on those dirty roads again,

I will be a Doctor someday!

Living the life I have to plan every day,

What I abhor has chosen me,

For I couldn't when I had a choice, but did I?

I am a pang of gullible guilt,

with honorless restraints and restless streak,

I am always late.

Wonder if we miss places or people...