Not Here

Pensiveness touches me, When the last ray of the Sun, flutters its wings, to fly away from this, Woeful day........... The green darkness, Sits beside me to knock, Me with the words-- not Here, not here is your, Root in the melancholic Present, the shady yard, The monotonous crickets, The homeward birds declare-- This evening has approached, As a must, inevitably as Destiny drowns a good Swimmer! I can't move, From the far-stretched, Growing night........... My childhood days creep back, To me-the coconut, the mango, Jack fruit, guava, tamarind trees, Crowd in single frame! Mother lights the evening lamp, Blows conch, father calls me, I hear...The evening, my childhood, And I thus become eternal, On the canvas of a, Standstill evening!