Abhilash Warrier


The River

They say
We all end up in the ocean.

Do we?

On their way, some like the Brahmaputra
Lash their fury every passing year
Without a miss.

Some rivers make nations
As they shape their paths.

Some rivers dry up.
But is that the end of the journey?

The river exists everywhere:
In the mountains, in the hills, in the plains,
Combing through fertile fields, and
Lazing through plateaus.
And in the sea, all at the same time.

So isn�t it the same me everywhere?
My past, my future strung like beads in a string?

Am I not just like a river?
On a song? 

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