The storm has now mellowed. The cavalry of dark clouds smoothly floats over the distant mountain. A lull of serene silence lends a distinct touch to the atmosphere. A gentle blow of air touches my cheek. It is twilight. The rays of the sedate sun struggle to make their way through the maze of clouds to reach the ground. The chirping of the birds suddenly dissipates in this forlorn silence. A stroke of divine brush creates a spectacular rainbow. A circle of black smoke emanicipates from a distant chimney. The waters in the river seem to be backtracking to reach its source like a lady desperate to meet her love whom she had left. A little child runs alongside a tyre in tarnished clothes, as if racing with the river waters. He coos back at the songs of a cuckoo. The red flag on the temple flutters gleefully greeting the dard clouds bid adieu. A piece of broken crockery is discovered by a bright coloured sand trotting mollusc. A pretty girl with her locks falling into her eyes gazes at the varied coloured eastern sky. She throws up her arms to reach and catch hold of the rainbow. An aroma of wet sand adds a tint of fragrance to the surroundings. A drizzle soon follows.
A piece of silk cloth gets strangulated midair in hideous curved branches of the peepal. And then a train whistle breaks this natures' moment of romance. I believe the train needs to carry on with its journey. I wonder which destination is the train headed towards. Is destination the journey or journey the destination? Suddenly, I hear the girls' shrill cry.
What is this life, if full of care.
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stare at a beauty's glance,
And watch how well her feet can dance;
No time to wait till her lips can,
Enrich the smile her eyes began ......
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