the places we go

||a place, there is, in every dream,

at nights, we visit, most often.

a home - we were born in,

a place - we were raised,

a street - narrow with a dead-end.

a school - that corner classroom,

a bench beside the window,

a trade fair with toys

we couldn't afford to play.

a missed bus or train

or that last question on paper,

an incomplete answer to an assignment.

a hand, and its warmth,

we let go on that last day.

some day we hope, we would

return there to reclaim.

one day, we realise, for real

we may never reach that phase.

for we've always been there,

and we never left that place.

truth: we've been anchored

to our memories, buried.

yet our sails flutter

for our journeys to begin again.||

-amit charles

Image courtesy: Yogesh Mokashi