The road it seems is unending. Most of the weekend I spent on the road. But that doesn't really bother me. Sitting on the front seat of the car, i see the road clearly and right above is the Moon. At this point in time, I feel I could be on the road all my life travelling as long asthe Moon is watching over me, or let's say as long as I get to be in his company.

It is just amazing. There is not much traffic. We are being passed by a few vehicles intermittently and rest of the time, all this landscape is just mine. On both sides of the road is nothing but a few trees on.the sandy terrain.

The road is well maintained only for that little stretch between Jaisalmer et Bikaner due to construction of another lane, we   faced a little hitch. But when that's finished,I am sire the ride will be so smooth.

Right now we are coming back. But when on Friday we had started towards Jaisalmer, it was wonderful. In the dead of night, the car cruised ahead and once the mist blurred the vision ahead. Some deers ran from the sides of the road to the interiors just by spotting our car. It was so peaceful and calm.

I am not going to describe what it was like in.Jaisalmer in this post, but would like to mention one wish that I could not fulfill this time.

I would love to be in the desert when the Moon would accompany me. Lying on the cold sand in a moonlit night...That is to be done next time. 

A lone car,
In the dead of night,
finds company,
of the road with slight bends,
Cruising ahead
in the womb of darkness,
the Moon sheds a little light.
A stray camel traverses the road
and goes to the desert land,
that runs along.
Some scattered trees,
some wild bushes
have pushed themselves up
from sandy terrain.
The faraway light
of another lone vehicle
from.the horizon
gets closer gradually,
assures the car
that it is not alone
in its ventures
by the night.

What meets the eyes,

Is that the truth?

What reaches the ears

That appears not brute

I rely on my experience

so that is my truth.

But how do I ignore

what's happening around?

Others' truth is what

they see and hear.

Apparently that differs

a great deal than mine

That also forms

a part of the truth.

Do I choose now to revel

only in what my eyes see

Or do I pay heed to

that those others feel? 

What happens 

to those

who, as kith and kin

have no one?

When they die

does anyone cry?

While walking on the highway today, I came across two bodies lying on the sides. Crushed by probably speeding vehicles, the bodies had no claimants. And why would there be any? The bodies were not that of humans but of animals, a dog and a cow. 

Whenever I travel on the highway, I don't know why, the thought often comes to my mind. It is not only about animals but even humans. Who cares for those who have no one to go to? What happens to those lives which struggle alone and one day leave the world without anyone remembering them?

Do we then consider ourselves lucky that at least we have a support system of people around us, who do think about us and care? But how does it matter when the reality is everyone leaves the world alone.   

A little boy
stood on the ground
holding a kite
with great delight.
With a friend
by his side
he managed to
give wings to his kite.
In the first attempt,
the kite rose,
going higher on the rungs
of wind's ladder.
Soon it flew to
great distance
floating above
buildings and houses.
The joyful boy
held his head high
in sync with the kite
overwhelmed with its height.
A little later,
a voice surfaced
and the boy realized
it was addressed to
the owner of the kite.
A voice that dwindled itself
with coughs and sneezes
but a gush of arrogance,
it complained to the boy
how could he fly the kite
without getting territorial rights
A bit perplexed,
He thought of birds,
and their freedom to fly
never got questioned.
the boy kept quiet.
but not for long
and answered with all his might.
If you have boundaries
I am unaware of,
kindly draw it in the sky.
I promise once drawn,
I would take back my kite
and fly it only
within what you called
my territorial rights.
The voice faded,
but left the boy
brooding over freedom,
later in the darkness
of that night.

What your absence

brings to me,

O' Moon,

you are oblivious

of my plight.

Inspirations dry,

anxieties rise,

a vacuum appears,

my creativity takes a plunge

and is left to die.

You create only

an illusion for me

that 

everything is alright.

Today the land

sizzles

in your 

shimmering light.

A few days of being

and then

you recede,

to come back

again in a fortnight,

with a promise

that you will

be shining on me

ever bright.

Highway

Swish Swoosh

cars rush,

trucks loaded to the brim

roar slowly,

bikes with bikers

sans helmets

riding ahead,

sole cyclist 

keeping to the left,

women walking

with woods balancing

on their heads,

Buses carrying

passengers on their way,

from dawn to dusk,

night and day,

the Highway,

it seems 

seldom 

takes rest.