I wait for you each day with the changing of seasons, the smell in our mango orchard and the turbulence of your hair where I once basked the stealth in the eye of a desire.
As a boy I raced the train everyday with my friends looking at the receding distance and the parting of the last carriage till a horizon lifted it once again in the sky. and then you came one day, Aavantika suddenly with the camel trains at sunset behind the lumbering fort treading the colors of your garara and the jingle of ghungroos on a bare feet river flowing on parched pebbles and eyes that had held together so long the distance again.
