Post conversation trance...

'Go...stand on the open terrace
Of yours...and study the sky scape
And those urban builds...'
telling me,categorically you the conversation sealed...

So I went...climbing twenty stairs exact
If you want to know the matter of fact
The stones colored brown green ash red
Planted and fixed into the mosaic
Stared back at me till I opened the door...
The door to the open terrace...

The blue wide profound skyscape
And the breeze playing about
Raised me above confusions and doubts...
Yes the urban builds were visible...
But the light that on them fell
Made them look like paintworks
Block prints like on the panoramic canvas...
And those heads of trees green...
Supplied varied ideas it seemed...

Then got a hazy glimpse of a distant bridge...
Its towers twin kind of glistening
As if the painter had deliberately left a sketch
Of them on the canvas to fetch
Before the onlooker a hint of life in flow...
The tiny dot like vehicles moving slow...

Then saw at one corner the minaret
Of a sculpture...standing straight...
(As if arabian tales at that corner were made...
Everynight...when the sleep descends...)

'Go ... Stand on your open terrace...'
You told me and I perfunctorily obeyed...

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