Walking Alone
by Dilip Mohapatra (February 2015)
I try hard to decipher
the silverfish infested
brittle page from
that perhaps held
the sepia toned picture
of the first ever
steps that I had taken
but cannot make out
if someone was
holding my hands
to steady me up.
But I distinctly remember
the faces of my friends
though not the names any more
on the narrow streets
of my ancestral city Cuttack
who walked with me to my school
on river Kathjori
and walked on its embankment
to take plunges in turn
into its water in spate
only to be caught
by our stern headmaster
standing on the banks
with his shining and well oiled cane.
I remember too
when I walked the aisles with you
under the crossed swords
and over the clouds
and amongst the cheering crowds.
I recall when I walked
under the shadow of your smiles
in harmony with your
gasps and groans
and those solitary strolls
in the park
under the fronds of the
midget date palms.
I remember when we
walked our children to
the kindergarten
and when we walked them
turn by turn
to the waiting cars
bedecked with flowers
and displaying the board
Just Married
and how we walked back
to our empty homes
to a vacuum that hounded us
for many a days.
I remember when the
walks became ambles
and continued to
become gallops
and faces that I passed by
became blurred a
nd indistinct without any identity
of their own
and I carried on.
The grass burnt under my toes
and with many a fallen trees
in my wake
I moved on relentlessly
climbing up
sliding down
again climbing
trying to reach the stars.
Now we got corns under
our tired and blistered feet
our arthritic joints squeak and cringe
our shoulders are frozen
but our spirits still soar
and so our faiths and hopes.
We got to cover
miles and miles of tracts
ahead of us
both walked and un-walked
for we were born to walk
to walk along our lonely roads
leading to our graves
unaided unguided
on our own.
Alone.
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