walking down 'misery lane', I covered my head with a tough cloth spun from a metre of will, and a few strips of resolve. a few miles, and I knew the thunder warned showers. showers, sudden, uncaring, incessant. my veil, not strong enough for the onslaughts, would fail to do the task assigned. and will, eventually, fall off. in some time. still I walked on. alone, shivering, distraught. all the street lights turned out only to add to my helplessness. there wasn't a soul I could call out to. 'misery lane', must say, lived up to its name.
desperate, however, I promised myself not to halt till I found the shop. which sold the magic potion. the antidote for all my problems. the medicine that guaranteed sleep. the pill called 'relief'. someone once told me they sold it here somewhere, on the bylanes of this distressingly convoluted 'misery lane'. too many bylanes here. one leads to 'self pity', another ends in 'tears', and I almost lost my way in a crooked, narrow dark stretch that read 'death'. but then, I turned. enroute a barren field, that had once been ripe. and mellow. with now, just a few painfully ingrained shadows, here and there, of it's, not too past, splendour. and laughters.
as I walk past this small undulating patch splashed with memory, I look up at the all-embracing vast blue above me. a soft, nascent drop falls on my long parched lips. oh! it has finally started pouring. I decide to wait till it stops. for, having come this far, I surely can't afford to miss the rainbow. before I walk back home.
desperate, however, I promised myself not to halt till I found the shop. which sold the magic potion. the antidote for all my problems. the medicine that guaranteed sleep. the pill called 'relief'. someone once told me they sold it here somewhere, on the bylanes of this distressingly convoluted 'misery lane'. too many bylanes here. one leads to 'self pity', another ends in 'tears', and I almost lost my way in a crooked, narrow dark stretch that read 'death'. but then, I turned. enroute a barren field, that had once been ripe. and mellow. with now, just a few painfully ingrained shadows, here and there, of it's, not too past, splendour. and laughters.
as I walk past this small undulating patch splashed with memory, I look up at the all-embracing vast blue above me. a soft, nascent drop falls on my long parched lips. oh! it has finally started pouring. I decide to wait till it stops. for, having come this far, I surely can't afford to miss the rainbow. before I walk back home.
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