A Freedom which Limits

The tracks, they danced to the roll of the train
Who, gaining momentum, wished to escape
The powerful wind neighing with tears of denial
Crossed with the calliphony of lovers' farewells.

The rocking coach did cradle my departing tears, which
Complimented the neck craned towards love
Love - now but a speck in the adventurous eye
A spectacle for the skeptical, wandering mind.

Yet reminded I was of the way that lay ahead
The 'road to freedom', is what they still say
To discoveries to explore, and marvels galore
To be gone with the wind, yet have your control.

And as the nights passed on by, filled
With new species of seeds blossoming into thought,
There came a night, when in a cherished dream I
Mused of love, of what I had left behind.

A sacrifice so selfish never had been made
Whose innocent wings, seeking enlightenment
Often fell to the ground, for they had left behind
The part they most loved, now but a hole in the heart.

And so was freedom marred by the beatings of love
Grasping for its identity, in hapless thin air
For is freedom as whole and free as it could be
When following your heart is subject to slavery?

What could be often limited wasn't freedom at all
How could then love make you question being unfettered?
Nothing could be more powerful than this devilish angel
For it was love down deep, nothing is more limiting,
Nothing is more free.

Ice Cream, and Other Clichéd Musings

This evening, my mother asked me a rather striking question which surprised me and made me excited at the same time. 'Let's go get some ice cream,' she announced, which seemed to me a perfect relief from the changing and oscillating weather and from my worries about my postponing habit during the exams.

Till now, a walk with an ice cream in hand was a common experience for me, whose school had so fortunately installed a Kwality Walls stall right next to the canteen for the hungry, sweating students. A daily detour to the stall was not uncommon, with a thought of bracing yourself to enter the deep throng instilled with the passion for ice cream.

And so, that evening, what seemed to me a completely normal 'journey' of sorts, turned into a deep revelation. When we reached the ice cream vendor, I asked for a Choco Bar and a butterscotch Cornetto through the hole in the wall the people made in our colony in order to buy ice cream from within the gates, a mark of prevalent laziness and a promise for safety.

As my mother and I walked under the deep, blue sky, each one immersed in the fresh taste of cold ice cream offering an official start to the summer, I couldn't help but notice the unusual, long-lost atmosphere that confronted me. The yellow glare of the street lights, mixed with the routine sounds of kids playing in the park and street dogs barking (with an occasional one following you, never to leave your side) stirred some childhood memory.

Here I was, with my mother, in the absence of all materialistic pleasure and electronic distractions, simply walking down the street, slurping ice cream. A moment ago, I was thinking of my prospects for the future and how I had lost any chance of getting into a good college. What dawned on me next was how thinking of the long run, I was missing this absolutely beautiful moment, which probably won't cross my mind in the future.

How could I enjoy and work for myself in the long run when I couldn't even do justice to this undiscovered pleasure of the present? Too immersed in acing the long run, I had miserably failed to take the shortest step. In an effort to offer some consolation, the next thought my mind welcomed was, 'I'm not alone.'