Vinod Anand | 11 Jul 2011

Introspecting can be immensely cathartic. When one delves into the past with the hindsight of the past, there can occur great learning.


THE ART of living life is mine alone

Lonely am I

But not to that extent.


When I told the tale of my heart

No none understood, no one sympathized

When I looked at myself

Understood and knew myself

Strength swelled in my mind

And I told my tale to myself


What love, what tales of love?

Let me forget the years that have passed.

Time will now move unceasing-

Hours of Loneliness will keep increasing.


The pace of life, its direction

Changed in such a way

I began from a certain place

And ended nowhere


The past is my own

Alive are many of its facets still

In their memories, drowned am I,

Time’s own unfinished story it resembles


Effect of loneliness kept on increasing

Often have I traveled away from myself-

To forget does not seem so much difficult


When did I travel, from where

And for what,

I do not remember

The journey continued

Restlessness increased

I crossed many destinations

The ultimate destination

Ever lay beyond reach


The shadows of sorrow

Have now lengthened

Light shall come

But only after End


For how long have I been entrapped

In my own tales,

The face of time has changed

But not so much


Sorrows are strewn

On the path way to life

Nowhere is there

Any joy to be found

Distances have ceased

Somewhat meanwhile

But nowhere is there

Any light to be found.

Extracted from NAZARIYA by Vinod Anand “NAZAR”, and translated by Meera “Panigrahi