I wake up from bed with a void from within,
There is a volutile itch, steering to fill the void
With vagabond thoughts and vanquishing facts.
The newspaper comes in handy to do that.
My prayer chart contains flowers,light and incense
And a little bit of music, that keep me hindered,
From getting closer to my divine destination,
Despite my rote chanting of hymns, half learnt,
My routine has been raided by colorful illusions,
Starting from childhood fancies and fables,
Through adulthood dreams dipped factual ambiance,
But ending as an empty container never loaded.
Ever being driven, never being let to see sideways,
My life's journey, has seen more nights than days.
P.Chandrasekaran.
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