Up there in the mountains
You will find another world
Where a chosen few may reach.
The path is fraught with perils
And the mind is put to test
One step at a time.
But there’s always a choice:
To move on or to turn back.
But there’s also a call
That one needs to answer
Once it finds him
In his land of comfort
Where the mind is lulled to sleep
Till it wakes up to the call-
Soft yet steady, ringing in one’s ears
That others cannot hear.
A chosen pair of ears at a time.
It gets frequent. It gets loud.
Each passing night
And then during the days.
It begins to beckon
The feet towards the higher lands
But there’s always a choice:
To move or to drift, to hide or to shift.
From known terrain to the new.
He too had heard a voice
Deep in his sleep
On one of the lazy nights
After a lazy day.
First, he thought it was a dream.
Then it grew louder
Stronger, deeper.
Until he couldn’t ignore it.
Wherever he went whatever he did
It kept calling.
He knew not what it meant
He knew not where it led
But he had to answer
And he had to act.
In silence.
So he began to walk
With himself to talk
To seek the owner of the voice.
He too had a choice:
To follow or to resist.
But did he?
Aritra Chakrabarti
05.20 PM, 30.03.2018.
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