Page 11 - Musings 2020

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Maps and Dreams
Dr. Rishikesh Vaidya

Not too long ago
I was a child.
Like a stream I ran wild
Unmindful of east or west
Chasing meandering curiosities.

Afloat in the boat of here and now
Freebies of lush meadows
Of infinite azure of summer
And the splash of vermilion
on the distant horizon
Were all goodies life promised.
Too good to be true.

Too good to be true it was.

It all came to a grinding halt.
The conveyor belt of life
Threw the child in the basket of boyhood
Unscathed --or so I thought.

They were standing right there to guide me
From the unknown sleepy purposeless by-lanes
To the glitter of dazzling high ways.
It was then they sold me a dream
And handed me a map.

With a backpack stuffed with past
And eyes on a summit I was supposed to see
I was good to go.
No, I was not alone.
We all dotted the crowd hoping
Someone must be dotting the i’s
And crossing the t’s.

Time my friend is a strange machine
It sucks in all kinds of animals
Cats and dogs and insects and flies
And whales and sharks and kangaroos
And spits them all painted same.
Uncannily similar in obsessions and ambitions
Willing slaves of beeping notifications
Available everywhere all the time
For anything that is anybody's fantasy

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