As the end of life's journey is uncannily felt near,
The soft thuds of ‘Kala's’ footsteps I seem to hear.
Thoughts of my wasted life bring me little cheer
And the spectre of unknown dark ahead makes me fear.
While my life unwinds in my mind like a film surreal
As I espy my foolish chase for things ephemeral
In pursuit of endless desires -sensual and material,
I feel like a wretch having gambled life for unreal.
Deep inside me, I have always had a nagging fear,
Having spent my life without much of His thought
In acts, that would not have
pleased His heart,
My final prayer made in dread,He may not hear.
Still, I strive to chant His thousand names
And utter some hymns that speak of His fame
But the thoughts of near and dear hinder me,
Even as the failing memory makes
a fool of me.
My tears are mistaken for my loathe to die
And not as the upshot of my deep remorse
For my failure to grasp the life's real purpose
And a life wasted approaching its inevitable close.
(kala means time or a form of Yama the god of death)
