On the road which I walk daily, I stopped suddenly on a point that meant little.
Caught by a little house on the road.
Was this little point here someone’s destination, could it be infact an end?
This point which means little to me, which I want to pass hurriedly, not even stopping for rest.
Could this forgotten stone be someone’s destiny?
One day, if suddenly my feet tired and asked for respite,
Could I stop here, just for a few days?
On this road that I rush past, could I find a home?
If not, then What am I doing here?
If yes, then why do I keep marching ahead?
Have I chosen the wrong road, or just one which needs to be passed in hurry?
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What happens when the the stops along the journey becomes more enticing then the destination?
I have been living in this foreign city for a while, have been raked by loneliness, awed by the infrastructure. What am I doing here and should I linger here longer….have been recurring themes.