Nowadays, it's almost as if the thought of losing gives way to more remembrance, thus opening up new ways to be lost. And it's strange, just how am I searching so vigorously for new paths where I can lose myself and what's stranger is that I am able to find them. Yesterday, I found love hanging on the branches of the ancient peepal tree in front of my house. So, I sat there and listened to the stories told by its leaves. You see, they told me of ghosts, wearing grey skirts of hope and violet shirts of hunger embedded with jewels rumoured to be pain. They told me of birds that no more preferred chirping but wanted to play instruments rumoured to be healing. They told me of statutes that talked and laughed and played and felt, rumoured to be poets. And with that, I realised, we are all just rumours that left our peepal tree, with truths to live and lie.— % & afterall who knows better of rumours than the peepal? ( pun intended :-P ) #poetry #rumours #jug_days
