The Lost Boy
There are no more tales to be told. There is no one point in the sky that I can look upto to and wonder what has happened. The earth has just moved on as it usually does and left with nothing behind. The earth just moves on.
Men in their selfish moves make the move of their lifetimes and look back expecting applause or fearing contempt and then that man also moves on. What was here a hundred years ago is no longer present now. What was he a hundred years ago might just be a bag of bones or maybe not even that.
Men move on though they have a choice not to. They move on because they say that they must. But some men don't. They stay there, soul imprinted on that minute and that second where life had for once lasted longer than a second. They decide to stay there and remain there till the earth has moved too far ahead for them to catch on. Their bodies do the universal twist but the soul stays on. Who said it cannot be done. Who says one life in a 100 billion is irrelevant, who says anything about anyone is right or wrong. The men who stay put but their bodies move on lose the sense of attachment, they are now detached. They are nobody and nothing touches them. Everything must be shallow but the water floods them. Who says that you cannot stay on. You can move on or you can stay on. Or maybe, you can do both. The soul stays and the body moves.
One life can touch a hundred maybe a thousand maybe a million. But that one life still touches someone deeply, does it now. There is no need to feel pained by the lost moves you never made, by the lost promotions you never got, by the lost raises that never came your way, by the lost words you could not utter, by the lost wind that got sucked out from your lungs, by that lost boy who is no longer with you. The lost boy will see to it that for every moment in your waking world, where you talk and run and walk and eat, he will be over you, above you, alongside and not care a hoot with what others think. You be best happy when with him, not really a need to sucker upto to humans, is there, your boy was all you had and he is all you got, the last remaining bits of him. The twain shall meet and the strings will tie and then in this world of humans, you will be just a statistic passed.
Men in their selfish moves make the move of their lifetimes and look back expecting applause or fearing contempt and then that man also moves on. What was here a hundred years ago is no longer present now. What was he a hundred years ago might just be a bag of bones or maybe not even that.
Men move on though they have a choice not to. They move on because they say that they must. But some men don't. They stay there, soul imprinted on that minute and that second where life had for once lasted longer than a second. They decide to stay there and remain there till the earth has moved too far ahead for them to catch on. Their bodies do the universal twist but the soul stays on. Who said it cannot be done. Who says one life in a 100 billion is irrelevant, who says anything about anyone is right or wrong. The men who stay put but their bodies move on lose the sense of attachment, they are now detached. They are nobody and nothing touches them. Everything must be shallow but the water floods them. Who says that you cannot stay on. You can move on or you can stay on. Or maybe, you can do both. The soul stays and the body moves.
One life can touch a hundred maybe a thousand maybe a million. But that one life still touches someone deeply, does it now. There is no need to feel pained by the lost moves you never made, by the lost promotions you never got, by the lost raises that never came your way, by the lost words you could not utter, by the lost wind that got sucked out from your lungs, by that lost boy who is no longer with you. The lost boy will see to it that for every moment in your waking world, where you talk and run and walk and eat, he will be over you, above you, alongside and not care a hoot with what others think. You be best happy when with him, not really a need to sucker upto to humans, is there, your boy was all you had and he is all you got, the last remaining bits of him. The twain shall meet and the strings will tie and then in this world of humans, you will be just a statistic passed.
