that night i look at him
the first time i met him
he was not that old really
his smile was like a quarter moon
with two stars
at the middle of his cheeks
that night, after five years, i look at him again
he has thinned a lot
his eyes are like sinking boats
the face is one dark cloud
stars have faded
and there is no more moon in his smile
time is rushing, and has always been a cruel transformer
my wife could not believe
how his misery has uglified him
we have struggles like him
but we did not bother much
did we claim that we are lucky?
nope. Dude we just know how to hide the creases
rationalize the lapses
and perhaps, accept the fact that we are but pilgrims
of the night
time is our only alliance
the sooner we die
the greater the gratitude
did you not say once that punctuality
is a respect for time?
we like to be punctual
in almost everything: old age, misfortune, early arrivals,
and final destinations.
did we claim that we are happy, or happier than them?
dude, no.
we did not say anything.
we are just the spectators.
we did nothing to make ourselves
different than all those who took their graceful exits.
in a minute we said hello
and in another minute, we say goodbye.
In theory that is what is life all about.
In practice, well, don't make it complicated.
simplify it. No comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very deep poem..the narration is beautiful.. i like it..10