Usually dull, after work
evening,
When the moon was smiling
in between the cloud lining.
With no issues to think
of, I whooped my bike
And took the usual road
home.
Bored off drifting past
the same traffic,
Started to imagine
random things.
One such weird deliberation
blew me off,
Confusing me, if my life
or that travel replicated the other.
No matter how many lanes
there are in my life,
I still have got to
travel in only one at a time.
Road I take, will always
have obstacles,
But I have to cross them
to reach home.
I come across many motivational
lamp posts,
That brighten my travel
back home.
Road-side shops are the
people whom I dash into,
Though they are not
permanent, these shops are a part of the travel.
Family is the vehicle’s
headlight travelling all through,
Showing what is there
lying in front of me.
Bike is so friendly and
dearly that,
How hard I rev them it
still gets me back on road.
Home is the best illusion
of the travel,
There isn’t one but
still I had hope of reaching it.
To my surprise, the weirdest
part of the travel came at the end.
I bumped into a guy in
khaki,
Who asked government’s permission
for me to continue this travel of mine.
