The Amazing Maze

Amra shobai ekta jaaygay eshe theme gechhi - aatke gechhi. Thheme jete hoyeche. Chotobelay jemon hurmuriye chuttey partam, nirbhoye edik odik - ekhon ta stimito. Jeno Dilli-r jontor montorer bhitor prithok rasta dhorechi - othocho gontobyosthol ek. Ki ba kothay shei gontobyo? Jaani ki? Hoyto jaana nei bolei ekhono pouchhotey parinin. Pothhey deri hoyeche karon amader rastagulo kontokbohul na holeo shurongo onek. Onek oli-goli.
Some stopped to smell the flowers - others forsook suchsilly pleasures for their eyes were set on a bigger prize, a greater treasure. Our paths grew further away from each other and we lost sight of friends who had once been inseparable from our very souls. Once we struck out on our own, we grew steadier on our feet and lines on our faces furrowed deeper into leathery skin. Our eyes narrowes as we learnt to disregard minor scratches left by wayside bramble. Sometimes, very rarely though, when we caught glimpses of shadows through sparse thickets, some of us would holler for attention, overjoyed and ecstatic inspite of how much energy had been sapped out of us by the journey. Our calls were not always answered - not only because we had seen mirages in forests but also because some friends no longer travelled on foot and perhaps - it is difficult to discern ants from humans when once is perched on the houdah.
Or, perhaps, by the time they did recognise us, we had scurried off to hang our heads in shame and disbelief. These were friends who had snapshots to our souls, brief glimpses into our inner workings and yet we chose to ignore them, preferring grandiose endings to smelling the flowers on our way.
Who could I blame - him, her, them or my own self?