collection of faces.

I’ve been so many persons up till now. The intricacies

of seasons and the changing winds have shaped and

formed the different faces, attitudes, perspectives,

and needs. I don’t moan; I don’t mourn with my head

bowed to regrets. As the distance grows I observe and

collect conclusions into the boat as we float down and

up this river. It’s easy to get lost among the versions, the

images, the ways I was and the roads on which I’ve been;

crowded fitting room with no mirrors and the now strong

yearning for introspection. It’s a necessary sort of

reincarnation. It’s a build up in the dance of the past.

I’ve been so many persons up till now. One, to be exact.