1 min read


Sunder And Sonati

When I meet
An old friend
After many many years
Is it not myself
At eleven, seventeen,
Twenty-three or thirty-seven
That I am catching up with?

Each of us
Has changed
Oh, so much
But the meeting
The choices made
The roads not taken

And I wonder
Would I be him, and he me
Would I be him, and he me
If each of us had
Chosen differently