sand sculpture...

Banished from court the young rajput
Silently sat on a cliff like a statue put...
And thought of how his love in yellow drape
With tears dusts of the road must've swept...

The breeze from her carried to him the scent
Of her hair perfumed by the season drenched...
The season with so much of love and song
The season so powdery and enchantingly long...
He wished to get to her close in a wink
He wished with her together sink
Into a pool of pinkish happiness
He wished to hold her right on his thirsty chest...

How lucky he thought the breeze sweet
For surely he got the liberty to meet
Her every pore of skin
To plant on her his kisses without being seen...

He then started envying the breeze
And prayed to god "Make me the wind please!'
The god of wind Vayu...the Pavan...
Heard his melancholic lovely song
And came before him with all his force
To fragment him into sand coarse...
He was turned into a sand storm furious
He blew down every barrier through which did he pass...
Till he reached a small hut at the far end
Of the village in which his love was chained...
He blew away the toughest wooden door
And into the small room his sandy love he poured...
His love was shaken out of her weep
His love smiled for she knew who in guise of storm peeped

There he finally held his love without being separate
There he touched her into the deep, desperate...
While all people ran away fearing a definite death
He, by Pavan blessed, her on his bosom kept...
People, next day, only wondered how someone could erect
A statue of lovers so entwined,
When the most violent storm the whole village wrecked?