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?