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richasmukherjee.com

love, laughter, pain, joy, life and its lessons, one word at a time

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Journey

Determined

It flickers, dances, now you see it, then you don’t

Playing hide and seek like a twinkling star

But it’s there.Sitting at the end of that road, that tunnel, that journey

Egging you to try, to fight, to walk, then run towards it

It keeps you warm in the biting cold

It sheaths and shields your passions in the blinding rain

It is baked and stoked on the coals of your determination

It is carved by your shaking but stable hands full of clay and doubt

But it will take shape 

Morphing into people, faces, destinations or dreams

The journey between where you are and where you want to be

I can see you so clearly that it seems you were made for my sight

I can feel you in every pore of my body

My knees might buckle I will still crawl to you

My hands might shiver but my elbows will renew

With every fibre of my body withering and washing away

I will conquer, vanquish , I will have my way.

In Search


My toes peep out from under their comforting blanket of sand.

Weary but happy that they have been bold and adventurous.

Every little blister stings and sings of that new nook, that new borough they found by chance.

A crab wriggles over my toe, not entirely happy that my clumsy feet are sitting atop his humble abode.

I coax this industrious little lifeform to sit by me and tell me tales of the many beaches his claws have sculpted.

The friendships, the battles, the joys and the sorrows,collected like little pebbles along the way.He relents and then we watch the sky in companionable silence.

A little sparrow now finds its way to the crumbs of the biscuit laying next to my hand.

A crumb for the many clouds it has circled.

Another for the many wonderous skies it has painted with its wings.

The last one as fuel for the new journey that this humble seeker will embark on in a few moments.

Each one of us is a traveller.

Some walk through the rigours of each day, content that they have found the same version of themselves in bed at the end of it.

Some will forever wander, looking for new meaning. In every new city, on every beach, under each pebble and grain of sand, ahead on each road, in what they see in the mirror each morning.

To those restless souls, those wandering toes and those keen eyes, may you forever roam.

When it’s over


On the last day of each travel, I feel very light. 

So very light.

But not in a good way,for it’s my heart that’s wasting away each time.

I shed some of it on endless walks along the waterfront.

Some shards fell away as the shimmering city lights enveloped the darkened skies.

Some bits withered away over endless conversations, tinkling glasses and wine bottles that flowed through the night.

A big chunk of it dropped as I sat in silence for days, watching a strange new world pulse around me, unfold around me, like a movie.

It almost stopped beating, when the leaves and the birds smattered against the blue sky, filled the canvas with bright vivid colours

A language stood between us, but my heart understood every word.

Every place was unfamiliar but my heart felt the warmth of each wonderful discovery.

I’ve lost my heart but it feels full.

Of invisible memories, laughter and joy.

All I need now is a new destination, a new river, a new journey , a new road.

My feet will start moving and my heart will be whole again, only to waste away once more.

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