Its May. My heart is heavy; not with the pain, neither with sorrow. Its an
unidentified heaviness.. Or may be I'm familiar with it; its contradictory. So
much has changed, or may be nothing has changed.
Its May. The summer clouds are back, fluffy and thick, yet weightless. The
wind is warm again, but its pleasant, filling me with nostalgia.
Its May, and its only now, that I don't really mind the sun; for reasons
unknowingly known.
The same trees, identical to the images I possess from that time. Its the
same journey, or may be its no more..
Like every year, I'm back once again, sitting under the shades of the trunks
of the slim trees. All of us. I remember the sun, the blowing of warm pleasant
wind, the clouds, the open ground, the rush, us --more clearly than ever at
this time of the year. It marks the accuracy. Everything is the same, but
everything has changed..
Me, my words, my priorities, my boundaries, my circle and most probably, my
lane as well..
The unchanged change is telling me, its May, again.
