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