AT THE CROSSROADS

He was standing at the crossroads, thinking on the feet. He fell down on his knees and murmured in the betwixt and between.
“Will the ‘rising sun going down’ rise again?”

Not long ago, he was everywhere but not here. He was there at every family function. He was the first person to reach on time for his friends’ occasions. He was the first go-to person for his ‘special’ friends’ needs – from napkins to news feeds. He was an omnipresent Wi-Fi signal with the strength of
Hercules and kept multiple devices connected.

For him, crossroads offered opportunities to multitask and self-inflicted multi-responsibilities. His confidants said and he believed that his aura of concerted altruism offered a slice of growth to his life. Today, he was standing again at the crossroads, trying to find a way in the maze. He was there for
his family and friends, so they found a crafted cushion to step up. Now, he felt like that worn and torn cushion that doesn’t offer the same fluffiness and comfort, and that becomes an extra bed in the house for uninvited guests.

Today, he was on his knee, trying to assess the knee-jerking bewilderment stimulated by his family, friends and significant others. In this melee, he was struggling and his nimbus disjointedly propelling succinct thoughts.
“Am I the protagonist, the central character of my story who kindles together all the characters that eat my footage?”’
“Will I always have to gainsay myself for others’ gain?”
“I tried to flag a ride and I became invisible, no one saw me and everybody passed me by.”

Thoughts over, knee stretched, he fell apart. Eye closed, head down, ankles took over. He was perfectly in the ‘Balasana’. Mind, body and soul – together, all were making an arrow in an effort to get something out from the earth below the crossroads.

All aligned. He moved into the world of supernatural spirits, between the worlds at the crossroads.
The bookkeeper ghost asked, “Why are you here? Are you the one with unfulfilled desires or the one who ran away from his responsibilities?”
He replied, “No, no! I am the one with wing and sky, but everyone used my wings to explore their skies and I didn’t get a chance to fly in the infinite. I hovered on the same tree like entrapped birds of lone tree in the midst of a concrete jungle.”
The ghost giggled, “You are no different than other confused ghosts who tried to become roots, stem and leaves in one life and ended up being neither here nor there.”
“First, try to find what you want to become. If you want to become roots for others, then don’t hold the leaves’
desires and craving for sunlight.”
“Go find the purpose of your wings and seeds, you have a long flyway and an impenetrable jungle to grow.”
The hauling winds at the crossroads broke his musing. He found his awakening and sang in the unison with the settings of the crossroads.

“I believe in my free soul now
No more sinking down,
I can run, I can run
Oh Lord! I can run…”