I wait for you each day
with the changing of seasons, the smell
in our mango orchard and
the turbulence of your hair where I once
basked the stealth in the
eye of a desire.

As a boy I raced
the train everyday with my
friends looking at the receding
distance
and the parting of the last carriage
till a horizon lifted it once again in the sky.
and then you came one day, Aavantika
suddenly
with the camel trains at sunset behind
the lumbering fort
treading the colors of your
garara and the jingle of ghungroos
on a bare feet river
flowing on parched pebbles
and eyes that had held together so
long
the distance
again.