Sunday, 24 July 2016



Look around,
What do you see?
No floodlights
To save you this time
As you put your hand
Out over the edge of
The cliff; no candles
To burn the letters from me
You wish to hide.
No mist to
Lose yourself in,
Vanish, with a
Flourish of your cape, from
There is nothing
You can lean on,
Nothing to
Set you free;
No clouds to scream at,
No storms but 
The one within yourself, are you
Sure you will not listen
To me?  I will tell you tales
Of a land not far away from
Here, that you will go to one day—so
Keep walking, even if there are
No floodlights
To save you this time
No candles 
To burn my letters
No mist
To hide away in;
A land where you can wish
For the orange sunrise and you will see it,
You can wish for yellow cornfields and 
Run past them 
You can build your own
House in the sunlight,
You can rub your eyes in the morning, and say,
“I have arrived,”
Go on, my friend, there are
Many doors you have not yet opened,
Many people you have not met,
Many things you have not seen;
There is far more to life, far more to
Than this moment in Time when you
Want to run away
From this smoke in the air that you
Would rather not breathe,
You must lead—for only
Then I will follow you
Out of the dust and 
Into space; finally
We will be free.

~Vruta Gupte (2016).

~ migration.

Dear Reader, (If anyone has happened to chance upon this rather not-so-very-secret diary of mine) it is my simultaneous pleasure and occa...