Samyak Jain

AR2013

We look, we touch, we smell, we taste We indulge, we gaze, we embrace Running in the endless scenes of dark and light Running for some random quest from domestic to wild Breaking through boundaries Encountering tragedy Cherishing some laughter Gathering some memories All of it, All In pursue of love Walking in empty soft mud ground, The street bounded by dried yellow leaves of neem What are we looking for, Watch at life in the small glass bottles, in the house door niches, in the wooden brackets The first fresh morning breath, the smell of morning due, the burning neem fragrance for chulah What are we looking for In the common court of many big-small houses centered by the few charpai’s occupied by the gossip of the village, doing some small domestic work, kids doing homework and then running to for the maidan, discussions of panchayat, finding livelihood for each other the fields and the dried up lake, The far forgotten lake at the edge of village, as an end to the farmlands trail The large endless farms, with some machans here and there Distant from the hustle of the village But busy with the chatters of parrot, Bangla, Chakla, sparrow Smiling with rippled reflection of babool trees on small mounds In all this hustle bustle the mystery remains what are we looking for