once i sketched a Gulmohar in full bloom
standing tall amidst its fallen embers
as an invocation to you, to flare my life.
but all of a sudden, you left me
like the sun, breathing its fragrance
into the clouds.
a seamless portrait is born-
life flowing and moving,
connecting, and changing continuously.
but mind framed it,
as the landscape of memories faded
i was left with just the frames –
monotonous rectangles and squares.
machines invaded my life
bull dozers, loaders, dumpers, cranes, excavators,
crushers, and what not…
suddenly, i smell the portrait once again
and feel it throbs in me
as i watch my son sketching a Gulmohar in full bloom
amidst the green, with crayons, invoking the sun
from behind the mountains...
a seamless portrait is born, again...