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The Wanderings of the Soul

No. I am not in a shell.

As I grew older, I grew myself layers upon layers of skin. Each time I found a vulnerable corner, I covered it with a cloak of invincibility. As a child, I was lighter, I could fly. Now, I barely hover. Growing up, I used to plunge into every stream and sea. I was not afraid of the sea, its darkness and it's depths, for I believed that they would not sink me. I am not sure of that anymore. My being grows heavier, and I am afraid of the sea, afraid that now,  it might drown me.

The road that I have taken, was only mine to take. The paths, good or bad, were mine to tread. This journey is mine and I cannot loan it to you to cover these distances for me. If your path crosses mine, and it feels right, you can travel some distance with me. This is your choice, your freedom, my side is free.

The slight droop and the drag that you see is from the heaviness of my being. Is from the seeming continuity of this never ending journey.

Some day my friend, I will rest this tired soul on a pavement and leave behind my bag of fears. Someday, I will run back to meet my sea and face my eternity.

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Had the nights been not so scary
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Mar 7, 2015
First published in Indian Sahitya, Feb 2017 Issue on Contemporary Indian Poetry