Spring-scented tulips are falling down the trees,
as I walk alone embracing the coquettish breeze,
through the hills and through the towns;
through the ups and through the downs.
Guided by the timber fences, I turned around,
fascinated that I heard a beckoning sound.
Signaled by the Elder tree, I move ahead in isolation,
turning over the pages, quite ready for retrospection.
I long for my piano - now consigned to dust,
to disown our attachments, is it a must?
Must we give up all the things we love:
the soothing wind, the enchanting stars above!
My pragmatic insights succumb
to the enigmatic beauty of the night;
shuffling all the hurt and mirth,
the drizzling rain rejuvenates the earth,
within me and outside,
as I stare at the sky with arms stretched wide.
The breeze returns to play with my hair,
whispering something secretively in my ear,
mellifluousness here, gorgeousness there.
Moving on, it gets dark,
the monstrous branches with their menacing spark
remind me of my apprehensions in the past,
battles won against one's conscience always last.
To dilute the scary arena of the night,
enters Endymion with moonlight.
Penetrating, the rays revive me,
a drooped sapling transforms into an ambitious tree.
The fragile droplets trickle down my back;
more fields to conquer,
more domains to sack.
Piercing through the leaves-teeming heaven
enter the somnambulist rays of the sun,
rejoicing the lilacs while tendering me;
what an indelible journey it would be!
Strength, if exists, lies in this sequestered walk,
infinity, if exists, dwells in an introspective talk,
converse with your isolation to grow strong,
it will stand by you when the world goes wrong,
because this is the way life goes.
The forest, since alienated, never had foes.
-Shambhavi Misra
B.A. (Hons.) English
(Edited by Malayka and Pallavi
Art curated by Ritika)
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