Window Seat
A poem
Imagine, you’re on a train.
And as you move ahead,
Something is always falling behind.
Best friendships are reduced
to life updates on stupidly named Whatsapp groups.
You don’t collect stamps or coins anymore.
They cut that tree that used to be a goalpost
in your football games on the playground.
And you don’t even realize
that your mom gave your cricket bat away,
till you see the watchman’s kid playing with it.
Grandparents go from being storytellers,
to characters in your stories.
Imagine you’re on a train…
and as you move ahead,
things outside seem to blur.
You forget the name of your first girlfriend’s second cousin,
who’d once met Jackie shroff in a bar.
And you forget which lane you’d first kissed her.
(your girlfriend, not the cousin)
Was it the second right after that goan restaurant,
or the third right?
And that is all that is left,
Of something you’d thought you’d remember forever.
Some kids from school are alive
only in the fading class photos.
You used to practice remembering their names,
But now you’re confused about the guy who rarely spoke.
Was he an Abhishek or an Aditya?
Imagine you’re on a train.
And as you move ahead,
The scenery doesn’t fascinate you as much anymore.
The butterflies in your belly
Have settled peacefully in a garden
in the basement of your heart,
where you keep your prized possessions.
So much of your quality time
is spent reminiscing some other quality time.
The funny stories seem lame,
and the people around you try to convince you,
that they were always lame.
Huh, the time value of funny. I guess.
Imagine you’re on a train,
But as you move ahead,
You learn to settle in.
You know how to make the tea you like
Taste, Tint, Temperature.
You realize that you still like board games
And the people you play them with.
You know who will answer your 4AM call.
It may even be 4PM where they are.
You know what setting of the AC
makes you too cold.
And who to hug when that happens.
You decide to convert unrealistic dreams,
to anecdotes of ‘when I was a kid..’
And sometimes, that just helps you relax.
You’re nowhere close to where you’d thought you’d be.
But you’re open to the idea, that its okay.
Imagine you’re on a train.
And you adjust to its rhythm.
Vikrant Hatwalne 2023
