In the monotony of my thoughts, I look for a tinge of fresh passion
Amidst the predictable pattern of my times, the heart yearns for a change of direction.
The sun rises in the east,every day
Yet how does it look so beautiful then, day after day ?
It’s shape and it’s size,
It’s hues and it’s rays,
It’s position and it’s ways
– All seem so same
But then why do I marvel looking at the same ?
May be the days are not so same as I thought,
May there was still some piece of beauty behinds the rays that my eyes hadn’t caught.
Days are repeatative yet the winds of change are brushing through my spirit.
May be the place,the trade
The people and all other things of which the situation is made
– All are the same
Yet the being that faces can still be little better.
Like the rays that are brighter,
Piercing across the still stubborn sky.
One day someone asked,” You sprinkle your words around.
And people are left spellbound.
Your books get name and so do you.
You must be getting something. How much or how few ?”
I paused for a while to ponder over the question.
The bird of imagination had been hit by a pebble of logic.
I stared at his face and peeped within my heart
Looking for an answer, for few words to start.
Silence prevailed for a while but then words flowed like they always had been…
“What if I tell you I get happiness by what I do?
Painting a portrait of my words with hues of my emotions,
Standing on the pedestal of my spirit , above the criticisms and appreciations
I sprinkle the fragrance of my words around,
Giving a reason for the frown to turn into a smile, darkness of despair to turn into a ray of hope.
You are right. I get back a lot, lot more than what the fingers can count.
Yet only the soul can feel.”