The Highway

I am nobody’s destination; I only remain as a facilitator to everyone’s need. I am not anyone’s residence, but I take everybody back home. I have always repented, that no one desires to leave his/her foot print on me and neither does one aspire to rest on my lap. Those who need to travel a distance too long, choose to curse me only for the length of travel. They do not realize it is I who patiently lead them to the doorstep of their hearth, but do I get at least a sense of gratitude in return?

On reaching home they relax, they enjoy, they share their joyous moments of meet. But while they are with me, they only talk about fatigue, unwarranted effort and separation from their loved ones. The joy, the euphoria so predominant while at home suddenly vanishes the moment they step on me. Do I not have the right to enjoy a miniscule portion of their pleasure and entertainment present in their lives?

The rich or the poor, the contended or the unhappy, the aged or the young, laughter or despair, the alive or dead all pass over me in a whisker as if blowing over the dust on my frame. Thus a “HIGHWAY” neither has joys to share or tears to care. A “HEARTH” only laments for the past, thinks for the present, and dreams about the future.

(Translated excerpts from one of Rabindranath Tagore’s short story -”Rajpather Katha”)