BEING ALONE

At the time wrapped in thin darkness when birds reach their nests, I am alone with the window bars. To be alone in a crowd is nothing new to me. Is to be alone and not get dissolved in the increasing mass of people my point of destination? Or is it that stage when my silence makes no sound in the melee of the crowd! Or am I alone only to be another face of rejection! To say that I stay alone because I cannot be close to relatives is pretence too. I am the kite hanging in space because relations severed the thread. Has being alone even among friends afflicted me like a disease? Nowadays, after writing, I leave the letters and am alone. The letters become ruled lines and go away to be read. My days are white sheets in the wide space without letters.