I think of what I am.
How I am different now than I was then.
And how similar I become to the past
In the course of moving on.
We are continuosly walking in circles.
We reach the place we had started from.
Only, this time, we had better judgement
Than the last.
Are these concentric circles,
Or are they the same ones that we are treading.
The shade and the sun, the damp summer afternoon
And the numb winter fingers, and,
The drenched monsoon pyajamas.
Are they the uphill climb or the downhill fall,
That I reach every time?
I am possibly set off on the wrong path.
Or am I missing something on the one
That i have been treading since childhood?