[Poem] The Return

I must walk up those steps once more.
Not, with book laden hands,
Not, lost in talk with friends,
Not, with a theory crammed head,
Not, bogged down with paper work.

 Walk, in slow languid steps
Savouring being in the present- the sounds, smell and view.

I must walk up the flights,
The Flights, that fuel my fancy.
No prereading,
No assignments,
No presentation-stress.

Wander the vaulted corridors aimlessly,
Where the sun glances in, occasionally.

I must linger in the dark recesses,
Run, my hands on the cool stone perches
Worn smooth with the years.

I must peep into the libraries, at the silent spectacle
Of bowed heads sunk over books,
 Immobile researchers at carells, with books piles every where.

I must sit in at lectures,
Fall in love again
with Homer, Shakespeare and Donne.
Read Tennyson and Eliot,
And experience, the many Meanings of Life.
I must sit once more, in the tiered benches,
The desks carved many times over by numerous occupants,
Smelling of dust and mildew.


I must lie on the green lawns,
Where, we talked, laughed and crammed before exams.
Get baked in the sunlight, go tea crawling to all our favourite haunts.

I would like to return
to those stone steps,



 Relive the days we climbed them, all together.

A golden threshold to One doorway,
that led to endless pathways
 Life carved out, to each, in turn.