As a gust of wind sends the curtains flapping wildly,
I wonder about our future.
The future is signaling us to go back.
The Future is telling us to stop where we are now.
But we pretend not to hear.
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And we don’t care.
We’re not aware of what we’ve lost
and are seeking things we don’t need at all.
We’ve lost our vision. We’ve lost our way.
We’re on a drug.
It’s called gross insensitivity.
It’s easily available in our society.
I am sitting by the window now, and there is nothing to hinder
my thoughts from wondering as much as I please.
I think we all are running around and around in the circle
dangling our greedy tongue out.
We say there is no way out.
May be we just don’t want to get out.
Sipping a cup of masala tea, I ponder about the wild ferns
which grow by themselves in various forms and direction
unaware of the man-made disasters.
