The Banks of the Indus

I remember the banks of the Indus

The silt and the paternal love

Carefree runs, clear minds under the basking sun

It feels to be the time when I truly lived

Away from the realities, far from the worldly touch

A place all to me where I thrived

It was the spring of 2000 and after

When the sun was no more my friend, but foe

Where my body wasn’t carefree, rather it hurt

And I was lost, unknowing this to be a forever show

My flesh had a mask, my mind wore a mask

My breathing ached, my fingers cold and blue

Maybe Mother was right

Maybe it was going to be a forever show

Unlucky or diseased? Both! I said

Said in a tone which lacked lustre and voice

Said in a manner that had no structure, no life

Fight or no fight? Both, I sighed

So which area of myself was going to lose the battle?

I asked myself most nights

So which sorrow was the biggest battle?

I didn’t answer that one

I didn’t answer many of those for a fact

But I remained lost, now knowing this to be a forever show

Maybe Mother was always right

Maybe I will never feel the banks of the Indus again the same way.

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