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I've walked so many footsteps that their prints have been stolen by tsunamis and many a sandstorm,
I've lived through so many icy winters because I've managed to remain warm.
I have seen the earth with different eyes, the earth has evolved and greyed,
The air is so heavy like every time I kissed it, the embrace has stayed.
The winds have picked my tear drops, adding them to the ocean,
The pink-blue skies have cried the same water calling me back with its all emotion.
The green I see now must have seen me before when it was just a little shoot,
Its green eyes look at me like I'm a tree, but I've stopped walking around with my root.
The sun has smiled at all the skins I have worn,
I have faded, reappeared and faded with one list of promises; sworn.
The drizzles, the rains, the hails have wet me, my deaths have burnt me dry,
Our world celebrates the newborns but my births have made the Old man cry.
Don't we all do this? Isn't this the universal norm?
To change a body, a mind too shoddy, and carry cold blood we call warm?
I have lived so many lives, you wouldn't want to calculate my age,
So many hearts, minds, and bodies but just one soul and one stage.
And we all are just old scripts with new fonts experiencing joy, sorrow, and slog.
I, am one of us, an old soul with amnesia trying to remember the right dialogue.
-Hritika Ahuja
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