Sometimes, people don’t talk.

They don’t walk the same walk.

But they call you out when you take a turn.

Sometimes, people are friends,

friends who were strangers yesterday and tomorrow,

when I did not know them and when I knew them by heart.

When they take a turn, I call them out and say goodbye.

Sometimes life is a road not taken by some poet I knew behind small benches and a tall teacher.

Was that teacher a friend or a foe, I never know till now

when I am one myself, a tall stranger in front of small benches

Reading out The road not taken by that poet

– Priya Sogani

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