Just realized I haven’t blogged for more than two months. It wasn’t a deliberate decision though. Several events, some planned, some done in an adhoc manner, kept me busy. Started with a pink slip that gave me enough spare time to take up some activities I had on my wish list. Learnt a bit of German, biked more often, went on a trek to Roopkund, and began writing a book. Read some books in between. Yea, yea, I admit those are no excuses for not dropping in here on Xanga.
Two months did seem like a long time, especially when I had more freedom without a desk job. More about that later though.
I’ll kickstart the comeback with a poem inspired by my last trek.
A thousand feet
Image source: Konstantin Scholl on Flickr
My feet died years ago.
I mourned their passing
like a boy saddened by the loss of his first toy;
I was scared of living a crippled life.
So I went out,
Searching for new limbs,
And found them scattered all over the country.
Some lay quiet by the sea,
Not moving lest they disturb the roar of the tide.
Some ran through sleepy morning roads,
Leaving their footprints behind
To be erased by the onslaught
of the morning cars.
Some strolled through the hills
And rested at the edge of a meadow.
There they waited
Knowing I had to come.
Another pair dipped its toes
In the enticing waters of a wild river,
And then, shredding their hesitation,
The ramblers dived in and flowed downstream.
They dodged the rocks
until they arrived down in the plains
where they held me by the wrist
and showed me around.
I should have known
I would grow out of my first pair
even if they had not died.
Just two were never enough for me.
Now I have a thousand feet,
Or maybe more;
I have lost count.
For often I find a new pair
Destined to find me.
Sometimes, I outgrow a few,
And go searching for new ones again
Around the shoulder of a river,
Or near the ears of the mountains.
You can chop my feet,
or wrap them in fire,
or garland them with boulders,
or entangle them with each other,
or perhaps, cause them
to revolt against me.
I would only drop them off,
Put on another pair,
And walk away on another trail.