Bear with me, my friend
I’ll tell you where I’ve been.
No hills, no seas, no rivers
No lakes, no lofty mountains.
No tickets or passports,
What’s a visa, why the currency?
I’ve travelled through time,
I have hiked through the ages,
The pages, my plane
The music, my ship
Words, my only fuel;
Charged up with Their
I’ve been across the Seven Seas,
The Chomolungma too, in Paths of Glory.
Been all over Europe, to England,
Where I heard the Solitary Reaper croon
My steely wanderlust that bore me there,
Took me also, across the Atlantic, into the States,
Where through revolutions, I found,
Roots of people, not just trees.
Buried deep; spread far, far and wide.
Wide enough, to slip into Africa,
Slide under the Nile
And sway into the Sahara.
The burning heat, the pouring sweat,
Oh look! Camels and an oasis!
These are not mirages, just memories,
Conjured up from the books that I’ve read.
From between the stumps of the 22 yards,
Durban and Jo’burg,
Cape of Good Hope.
The Gentleman’s Game it was, too,
That drove me Down Under
To the land of the koalas,
Bordered by the boisterous buzz of Sydney.
Then flew, trans-Tasman
Into sheep and natural geysers,
The Haka- ‘bout which, I’m none the wiser.
Soon calls the East,
The smell of the spicy Orient.
A land too diverse, to be
Encased in my imagination-
My own Homeland,
Now so new and grown,
Yet still retains the splendour
That Tagore did write about.
I’ve been through time, I tell you
Been to places I couldn’t forget.
Met people I don’t remember
Done things too many to recollect
I have no proof, no pictures,
No painted portraits;
No slick selfies.
Memories are all I have.
Sad, happy, scary,
Wild, wild, wild memories.