The Ride
The curtainless windows are shut tight
In the second floor classroom.
Shut against all the noise from the road.
A voice reads aloud some lines
And enraptured minds sit in silence.
You do not look, but are aware, sharply, avidly,
That everyone is waiting, grasping, for even a shred of the beauty.
Your own eyes are wide open to possibilities.
Your ears twitch that no sound escapes their repository.
The person ahead of you, you almost do not see.
You seem to move continually forward
Towards a destination
Just beyond the voice, the person, lies realization.
Outside the world is going berserk
Chaos tries intruding through cracks in the wood
But fails to impinge on your focus.
A chuckle resounds in the silence. It echoes your thoughts.
The mood swings: further deliberation is paused.
At the end of this ride, you awaken.
You had stepped into the poet’s realm.
Mesmerising, the voice resounds even when you leave.
It stays with you each time you read Jejuri.
The passion you had seen has seeped into you
You are alive sensibly and sensitively
To the sensuousness, the richness, literature, life, has to offer to you.
Happy Birthday Meena Ma’am. And a million thanks. .
- Written on 16 September 2013.
- Self Explanatory :)
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