Strangers

By Chaitra Ramalingegowda

We were but strangers,

who became friends,

learnt to listen to each other,

made it easy to share,

to talk about the silly, the mundane, the trivial.

We were but strangers,

who pushed past the strangeness

to become much more,

more important than mere strangers,

to share the puerile, the prosaic, the banal.

We were but strangers,

who molted out of the strangeness,

became much more,

more than either of us thought possible,

to gab about the good, the bad, the ugly.

But alas,

we came full circle,

when we became strangers yet again,

no longer able to talk, share, gab,

for the stars had another plan.

Our paths diverged,

no longer a single line,

but parallel lines,

and the twain shall never meet.

By Chaitra Ramalingegowda