As I sat alone, dreams of the past flew by,
Of afternoons which had been like this,
Only then I was small, young not to understand,
And now I realized what everything meant.
I had a book in my hands today,
And I had a book in my hands that day,
But how different were the two,
Different as much as I have become,
In the days that have passed between us,
Between the old I and the I of today.
But the dreams never changed,
They stuck like the bee stung to one’s finger,
They stuck like honey on the lips of the girl,
Ever so changing its way quite rarely,
But unbecoming everything and being the same.
The coffee reminded me of a different country,
A country where I’d stayed for a while in between,
With wooden walls and mammoth beds,
And the coffee which boiled in the kettles.
The dreams I had woven lying on that bed,
The dreams never changed, they are the same.
And that only meant one harsh thing,
The dreams were never fulfilled.
And was it not true that deep inside,
I knew the dreams would forever,
Remain unfulfilled as the wish to see dinosaurs,
Then why did I still run after them?
What made me so persistent in it?
I look for an answer as I sleep today,
Knowing that the same dreams would wake me up.
Though I have named this ‘Then and Now – II’, it is not really a sequel to Then and Now, which was posted back in 2012. It is more of a thought on the same lines of the past and present and how some things change and some never do.