Bijni

I yearn to go to Bijni:

Where joy corresponds to an open sky

Dotted with fleeting clouds

Leaving a trail of pink dye

Where the leaves dance and sway

As a nostalgic gush of wind

Knocks every being on its way.

The vast stretches of sky ends

At the sea of mustards and paddy

The skittling breeze drenches you

In an unrecoverable serendipity.

The slanty, criss-crossed grills don’t block

When the sun pecks my cheeks.

And that’s why:

I yearn to leave the city

And dispose here my body

Because when the evening breeze strikes me

It carries my soul to Bijni.