Can't you write a sky of a night , like this
As we are here, one time more,
Please?'
She asked me oneday,
When we were lying on the grass
Under the sky with stars twinkling luminous,
I looked at the sky and those glittering things
And thought how for ages they did bring
Amazement to us mortals living on earth,
I thought of human struggles and existence
And so many poems and plays and prose,
Of writings eulogising God and Goddesses,
Of stories which spoke of Love that could inspire,
Millions to go in search of life,
She knew I was thinking and having a travel
By mind to distant places, those valleys and Hills,
She knew perhaps what did I then really feel,
So she waited with ancient patience
Written on her face, her eyes deep and calm,
I was thinking of roads and lanes and streets
Which have I walked through only to meet
Her and our days and our nights,
I was thinking of journeys to the woods,
Of stumbling upon a brook,
Of coming across blooming Rhododendrons,
And also of those wonderous lakes
Where swans floated like white objects of art,
I was thinking of varied images that the world to us had brought,
'Are you thinking of going to any particular place?'
She asked me, after a long pause, silence when wrapped us more like the cool night dense,
'Yes,' I finally ventured to give a reply,
'I was thinking of a cottage built somewhere
At the hills, overlooking a Valley green
With flowering tulips and juicy berries,'
I said, gradually turning wakeful from the trance
That made me to ruminate and to mentally write
Words , arranged with care , placed side by side,
She got the cue perhaps,
Of the place from my spoken words
And unspoken expressions,
'It might be somewhere near Ranikhet,
Or Kaushani,
And it might be the onset of a sweet winter,
When the mist and fog would start to descend soft
Upon valleys there'
She remarked,
I looked up at the night sky,
The stars were twinkling there alright,
And I thought there was nothing more
Could I hanker after, at that moment.
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