I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

If you close your eyes and reflect upon the moments that have defined your journey up till this very second. What is it that you remember? Think hard. What stands out? Do you remember the first time you fell from a cycle, or do you remember the first time you were able to ride it on your own. Do you remember the numerous failed interviews, or do you remember the moment you recieved your first paycheck. Is it the moment you lost someone, that stands out, or is it the times that you shared with that person? Does the missed promotion feature in there, or is it the first time you bought something for your mom or dad. Funny, isn't it, how our minds work. The things that bother us and the things we remember. 

About four years back in 2010, I left my home to start on my first job. These four years haven't been a smooth ride, and like everyone else I've had my ups and downs. There have been times when I have felt that I can conquer the world, and there also have been times when I have been without hope. I have been clueless and I have also been determined. At times I have been miserable, while at some been at peace. In these four years I have also changed my residence, quite a few times. But almost every place I have lived in, there has always been one thing in common. A yellow lamp post, out on the street visible from the balcony.

Over these years whenever I have been brought down by something or the other, I have almost always found myself deep in thoughts, standing at the balcony, staring at the yellow lamp post across the street. The streets have changed over the years, and so have the lamp posts, but the routine still remains the same. I am not sure if that helps me somehow, but I end up doing it nonetheless. Today when I try to recollect the numerous times that I have done this, the only things I do remember are the lamp posts. Neither the reasons that kept me awake, nor the apprehensions of those moments, but just the yellow lamp posts.

I wonder, if the reasons really were that important, and if they were, then why don't I remember them at all. Has the gravity of those reasons diminished with time, and if so then why did they seem so significant back then. I don't think I have all the answers with me, and I also don't think that this realization will make me immune, to whatever it is that the years to come will throw at me. There will always be something that is going to bring me back to that balcony, in the dead of the night, but one thing that I know for sure is no matter how bad things are, no matter how hopeless they seem, this time around when I stand there and stare at the yellow lamp post across the street, I will know that things are gonna be fine.

A long walk with some thoughts to feed...
The rainy school days, the openfair nights,
The windy afternoons filled with kites...

An evening with friends, some old stories told,
Some old parchments, in some forgotten folds...
That familiar road, now a stranger to you,
Still finding in there, old faces few...

Some questions unasked, and their answers untold,
Some smiles bartered, some remain unsold...
A pensieve of memories buried deep within me,
Some make me cry, others fill me with glee...

In the cacophony of time, a few melodies drowned,
Some lost forever, some waiting to be found...
Within the confines of my clenched fists I see,
I am holding on to nothing... nothing but a memory.

Sitting there lost in her thoughts,
With strands of hair kissing her face,
There's so much more than meets the eye,
About the girl in the orange dress.

Carrying a million queries in those eyes,
With her earring's melancholy chime,
Wandering around in her own dreams,
She's caught in a moment lost in time.

A hint of smile is on her lips,
Reminiscing about evenings passed,
Trying her best to hold on to...
Blurry images of a forgotten past.

There will be times when she will hide,
Deep within a lady's grace,
But look closely and you shall find,
The girl in the orange dress.