Purpose.


English: A door with no purpose.

English: A door with no purpose. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I went to meet an old, old woman
in a hut in a village in Tibet she lived
and I had travelled many a miles
for this visit, where the pathway finally led
 
I had heard whispered stories about her
A God, she was.. or a Witch..
and I had built her up in my head
just as my right palm developed an itch
 
I knocked the dilapidated door
with my twitchy right fist
The evening star was in the horizon
And in floated the mist
 
My legs ached from the uphill climb
I longed for a cup of warm tea
And as I waited outside the woman’s door
I wondered if she’d be kind to me.
 
Not sure what I was expecting, 
But this just wasn’t it
The door opened and what greeted me
Was a warm smile accompanied with a glow of a fireplace finely lit
 
Old, but lively – she invited me in
I accepted, mirroring that wrinkled smile
She said she’d been expecting me
That I had simply taken too much time to arrive
 
I wasn’t surprised, somehow
and that was the wonder
It was humbling to realize
that I’d expected the magic of yonder
 
Busying herself on the stove
“What do you seek, my child?”
Towering over her, feeling pretty useless
“Purpose” I replied.
 
She smiled a smile I couldn’t fathom quite
the glow of the fireplace were making my senses light
The tea smelt heavenly – she poured me a cup
and a sip was all it took – for me to give my consciousness up
 
I wasn’t aware that I was asleep
till I awoke
The home, the tea, the lady
seemed all a dream or a joke…
 
Getting up from the bank of the river
I went down to riverbend
to wash up the dirt and the eerie feeling 
that my search would never end
 
Purpose, I had asked for
to that lady in the dream
And then I saw her again
Collecting water from the stream…
 
I followed her like a mad person
Twigs and stones, breaking my stride – making me fall
For an old lady she was quick
But surely deaf, as she did not heed my call
 
When I finally caught up with her, she asked
“What do you seek, my child”, 
Out of breath, and bruised, I replied
“Purpose”
 
She smiled that smile, now familiar to me
and gave me a pretty blue flower to see
I took it, it’s beauty belied all
and as I took a whiff, I felt a fall
 
I wasn’t aware that I was asleep
till I awoke
The river bend, the flower blue, the lady
seemed all a dream or a joke…
 
The subway train was where I waited
for my destination, so near – so away
the employment section open in my lap
unable to hold my attention for a second of the day
 
What a weird dream, I wonder
As I get ready to disembark
I catch a glimpse of an old, old Tibetan lady
and with that smile, she points at the station arc
 
Too ridiculous, too much of a coincidence
I walk towards the station arc, as if bound
Will this be it?
Will my purpose be finally found?
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