Saturday, 16 June 2012

IMPRINTS AND SHADOWS

Many stories may be there,
Many imprints may be there,
Shadows must have followed them,
Which I never have known...

This place is Heaven for me.
Here, I and the master is also only the guest,
We are special guest for a few moments...

Only the leaves have left
When the flowers have deflowered,
The leaves of the trees have been falling.
Today, I know Autumn is arriving...

That’s why I have been eagerly awaiting
In the next season’s days
If Spring arrives amongst us...

That imprints which have been collecting,
That shadows which have been picking up,
Is only a story of a Master,
It’s only your story...

Like a very fresh white coconut,
When you smile freely showing your teeth;
I have seen thy black eyebrow,
The mole on the right cheek too...

That small shiny Bindi in between
The eyebrow must certainly saw me-
When thy hair roll into a bun of hair,
And you try to keep aside thy silky hair
I won’t say you are not beautiful…

Oh! I’m sorry, really sorry.
Once I have forthrightly said
“That black nail polish dyed in thy nail
has reduced a skimpy of beauty from thee.”
Heartily laughed, in front of me;
That preferred hue of nail polish painted
Could no longer see it again...

I a pathetic fellow won’t know
These stories filled with mystic
Of thee master, which I deeply passionate about...

You soothe me when I silently cry,
Wiping out my tears with thy words,
I always sleep and stretch
Inside the old Remembrance,
You wake me up to awake
Tell me who you are master
Please tell me...?

You teach me how to laugh,
Make me acclimate to live,
Though I met you at this halt place,
You will be remembered forever
Please tell me...
Who you are master?

Are you my thabal for the night? (Moonlit)
Or else are you the lightning for a few second?

Your delicate movement is like the fingers of graceful dancer
But never heard your anklet and bangle’s sound,
Like the Rajkumari of ancient king (daughter of the king)
So decent who mounted on chariot,
Don’t make me to wait please tell me it’s becoming late...
Who you are master?

If you don’t laugh once in the twilight
This city would be gloomy more
Oh! Laugh, is there any reason behind
Did someone have stolen the smile of the master?
But you make me laugh
Please tell me who you are,
Who you are master?

Why did you help me?
Why do you open the door of benevolence?
That tuneful voice circumspectly call me occasionally,
But I’m the shadow of the shrivel tree,
Master you are the Banyan tree.
Don’t hide any longer, please tell me...
Who you are master?

Are you the sprout on the shrivel tree
Before the life wholly fallen in the autumn?

Before the morning star’s light
In the invocation of the masajid’s azan
In the sound of the church bell,
In the morning bhajan of the temple,
I pray to the God
With heart and soul
With full devotion for you also
But, I do not know,
Don’t make me thirsty I’m craving, please tell me...
Who you are master?

In this mirage’s world
I won’t ask any question though I want to.
Carrying these picked up imprints and shadows
Which I wholeheartedly picked up, accumulated...
One day I shall go back,
Alone, without informing to anyone…
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