by Ishani Routh

Student, Semester 4, Rani Birla Girls’ College

Dreaming about ‘daffodils’ roused I from slumber, startled and stunned as if beckoned by a thunder,

My ears yearned for the song of the joyous ‘skylark’, or to the glimmering chirps playing in the park;

Instead I heard the horns honking out loud, along with some machine blades monotonously whirling round.

Going out for a walk I looked above high, to see the vast sky whose blushes and lengths are never to die,

But what I found was giant tall towers, haunting over me bricky images they shower;

Then I went to search for the ‘olives’ that someone called Gogh drew, or some greens that like ‘olives’ lusciously grew,

Pity o pity found I only some skeletoned barks, naked stark growing some leaves dry dark.

Wishing to smell the ‘roses’, or some flower’s sweet scent I ran but got chocked by the black cloud presented by a passing van!

Dismayed and despaired enough I turned to my old home, where lived some tranquility yet not much to boast about.

I sat for some while, thinking up and down seven and five,

Then rushing to my terrace, started to dig out a hole in an earthen tub by;

Gently and softy I planted a sapling caring it a lot, like a little baby who was just born,

Watered it I, nurtured it I, with great love, the golden streaks kissed it’s tiny leaves soft;

I smiled and sighed, then prayed a lot, may the greens return again, re-capturing their throne like how once the ‘lamb’ taught.