AI-generated illustration It wasn’t easy to discern whether he was a friend or merely an amused onlooker. He was my colleague at the college, though from another department. When my life had entered a slippery slope because of certain unresolved psychological problems, he didn’t choose to shun me as most others did. However, when he did condescend to join me in the college canteen sipping tea and smoking a cigarette, I wasn’t ever sure whether he was befriending me or mocking me. Kailasnath was a bundle of paradoxes. He appeared to be an alpha male, so self-assured and lord of all that he surveyed. Yet if you cared to observe deeply, you would find too many chinks in his armour. Beneath all those domineering words and gestures lay ample signs of frailty. The tall, elegantly slim and precisely erect stature would draw anyone’s attention quickly. Kailasnath was always attractively dressed though never unduly stylish. Everything about him exuded an air of chic confidence. But the wa
I wish there were roses blooming in my garden too... then may be I can pen some wonderful poetic lines like these. :)
ReplyDeleteTry growing roses; not very tough.
DeleteWe, the worm, the rose, are all going to dust one day, whether the Master wanted it or not.
ReplyDeleteDeep. This one.
Yes, dust is the ultimate reality. In the meantime the worms enjoy the real delights :)
DeleteProfound!
ReplyDeleteThanks.
DeleteDeath makes us same, what differentiates us is the life we live :) And is life worth living without acknowledging each moment?
ReplyDeleteThe lamb and the lion, the rose and the worm... Why did the master have to be so cruel?
DeleteProfound and beautiful :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words !
ReplyDelete☺
DeleteWonderful. Loved reading your poem
ReplyDeleteThanks. Glad you said it.
DeleteBeautiful poem.....liked how you brought Blake and Tagore together.....We are all made for the dust....but till we reach the end, a gentle touch would suffice....
ReplyDeleteA gentle touch, yes. The Buddha would nod in assent.
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