WHEN I FELL IN LOVE WITH HER!



I was drawn to her frequent innocent smiles,
Like a butterfly to a fragrant flower.
Her smiles were more enchanting and engrossing,
Each smile more overwhelming and prevailing upon my fragile mind.

Amidst the multitude, she would interrogate,
And when I would laugh at her innocent intrigues,
She would smile back in a flowering bloom,
Her blooms were more engulfing,
With my heart swelling in aspirations.


I don’t know when did I realized,
That I was in LOVE!
For now I could feel her presence,
And then I could feel her absence.
Her presence more maddening,
And her absence more saddening!

I began to dream of my future unfolding,
And our Union overflowing with moonlit trips
And new moon nights and the little ones,
And how they would grow up!

One day, I gave her a souvenir,
And it was sighted by his vaulted eyes.
He asked her for the souvenir.
She said she would not part with it but another one.
He showed me the other one and her name inscribed.
I felt for a while on top of the world,
With happiness brimming in my face,
Made no secret of my feelings!

My friend walking to my next,
Asked me to unveil the cause of my happiness.
And I told him in words veiled,
And he said that she was already owned and chained.





I was dumbfounded and drowned,
And my spirits began to ebb and moan.
My friend to my next talked his way to our nest
But I was walking quietly in funeral silence.
Oblivious of his walk and talk all along the way.

I went to bed with empty belly,
And I cried through a sleepless and blighted night,
For I was thrown down from the pinnacle of love,
Into the abysmal oceanic depths of agony, dismay and desolation.

The next day, all along, I wished if that was not true.
I resolved several times to confirm
But my resolve remained infirm
To devolve me into the agonies of loss and grief.
And to seek relief for the day, I went for a musical brief.

In the evening when I saw her, I called her and asked, “If that was true?”
She paused for a while and spoke in chilling words drearier than darkness
“That his name is …….”
Her words struck me like a thunderbolt and wrecked me asunder.

The day next, I repaired to the Fort, my favorite retreat for a decade and more.
I reached a spot hitherto unexplored and took asylum under a banyan tree.
I sat there and looked around in dismay and desolation.
I could only see her in countless number all around.
And soon went fast asleep to be woken up by three policemen in civilian fatigues,
Counseling me to leave the stills
And seek refuge amongst the people milling around the hill.

I took their counsel but found the people troubling my soul.
I went for a movie and reached home early in the night
And went to bed on a empty belly with the night blighted by slights,
With my heart dithering in agonizing and painful plight.

I believed Time was the greatest curator and the best natural prescription.
The next evening, she came up with the book that I gave her before
And asked me: “Why did you ask me so the day before yesterday?”
I told her in words veiled and she talked to me for unusual stretch of time.
Her comforting and curing presence gave wings to my agonized being,
And my faith in Time was altered for she proved herself
As a better curator than Time!






Krishnan