Incognito

Green tea and I have become
Quite good friends, I must say.
Incomplete the taste buds,
Gnaw at nights, when unattended to.
Craving- this must be it-
For the warm liquid to give relief.
It's my thought time,
Sipping on the sake-
As I watch the leaves swirl by.
No crystal ball,
Still I gaze into them-
Like a loony cow, lost in grey meadows.
I wonder what the future holds.
All images once dreamed of-
Would they just be an expectation of me?
Or would I be able to translate all imaginings to reality?
In my world, as much as I may love others,
I guess, I love me the most.
Yet dreams, ambitions collide with a sense of responsibility.
Towards what- I don't really know.
Not my folks- they're used to me being a free bird.
I love them- mostly from  afar,
Scared of excess proximity.
I watch Avik,
Marveling at his courage-
To be voluntarily jobless in a world like today,
And giving form to his dream.
I cannot-
Love money too much and the freedom it gives me.
But is it not a chained freedom -
For the butter that wets my bread-
Is unloved and uncared about.
I see my brother-
Like me-
Adrift in currents,
Awaiting the right tide at the right time.
I look at you too,
Whom I love so true.
But at times,
I seek to place your fragile form
In a mantle much beyond my grasp-
As I remain scared of my own shadow
To darken your world in any way.
Try to push you away thus-
Mayhaps, it's all a mistake.
I am not anyone one should be with-
Or desire for I have nothing.
Can't give anything.
I long to break free thus-
Fly outward- away from human contact-
Live life incognito-
Unknown-unsought.
I care not about the conventionalities of life-
Marriage, babies, old age-
They aren't for me.
I am not cut out for any such trust.
Too much of a wanderer in mind-
I try to fathom out a career path,
That might carry me somewhat.
Yet ensconced in a meager comfort spot-
I shy away from distance.
I don't have faith in numbers-
Words are jargons mostly.
I try to know me-
Through me-
In my silence,
In my defence.
But blank walls stare right back at me-
When I probe inwards-
To know what I want exactly.
Green tea makes me mellow-
Soothes the aching throat.
I wonder if life itself,
Has made me shallow?
Am I too far away from,
Whom I imagined me to be?
Or who I had made myself to be?
Somewhere, it's all a blur-
The line of control,
Between definite and dreams.
Mostly, I think about cutting it all short-
Flying away - much afar.
Is it all worth it?
The slow death every time?
Or is the show really an example of courage-
When passion must bid an exodus.
But what blasphemy is this epiphany-
When ethereal sought remains ephemeral?