I have no time left to dream, 
no future which will see
inchoate wishes fulfilled. 
I have reached the borders 
of my past, wait visa-less 
to enter a foreign domain. 

What name shall I be given there? 
What identity? Will I be immersed 
in a common brahman

bath with strangers? 

Will I still be me, or you you?
How will I know you? 
Will I spend eternity searching 
for you? Will I be allowed to complete
sentences left unsaid, 
decipher chronicled thoughts unread?

I will wait for you, as I waited 
all my life. When we meet abroad,
incise the air with our agreed sign,
the hieroglyphic that spoke of love.
Then, whoever I am will know you -
whoever you may have become.

2.4.18