Because time is not a
Super highway, not even a
Road. It’s the mist that rolls
Over mountains when one
Cares to notice. Drink it like
A flu patient does chicken broth.
Learn to watch like
The robin does, letting an
Entire universe unfold
Within while eying
A single worm. Listen to the
radio as it rebukes you.
It’s the friend you
Forsook, like paper and postage
Stamps did letters.
Discard the rust of
Ambition for the never-fading
Sheen of idleness.
Like the chirping of birds in
Spring, reserve all your haste
For love alone.
First published in Madras Courier
Bhaswati Ghosh 