I think its time to revert to prose now. The danger with poets is that they often forget that Utopia is a fictional landscape. Terra firma is still my home sweet home.
However, old habits die really hard. Hence, my bus escapes, continue. Today I ended up in Qutub Minar. As I had gone there when I was in Class VI on a school trip, I did not remember much, as always.
So I explored the grounds, read the inscriptions, asked for my heart's desire from the Iron Pillar. It is fenced in now, so I could not hug it as I did the last time.
However, my wises remain the same. Ordinary ones. The best, nothing but the best, and always the best.
The inscription on the pillar extolled the Slave Dynasty- their serving appears to have borne fruit.
The deeds we do live on, fortunately. The sheer expanse of space and the way it has been altered to rival the beauties of nature left me awestruck, bushwacked and jaw dropping.
It must have been a treat to live their then, as masters of this particular universe.