During a travel in Shangri La , the floating love in sunrays and choirs of birds opened my eyes.
And I found myself lying on mat on terrace with a handsome smiling man reflecting in sun.

While rolling mat , an invisible breezy naughty kid played with my messy hair and tickled and whistled in my ears.
Seeing this , the aunt flowers smiled and swayed in euphoria.
Closing the kid behind my terrace's door just before my way to downstairs, I sighed in relief.
And the kid went very far and higher and higher...

Capturing this moment , I poured it down into my diary.

Love, if it were told how little truth you hold,
How diadems and stars are less than twinkling souls,
How anyone can fill your mercurial fancy in the fold,
How you lie before God and you lie with man,
Love, books are less old than your falsehoods,
Or the rood and the rose.

Turquoise waters cradled by an unknown guardian filled itself with the emerald rainwaters...

By the day, it appeared as an ever expanding expanse of a jewel encrusted crown that belonged to no queen...

But at night,the very same radiated conspiracy with its violet aura and indigo rocks that wove a sinister garment about it...

Reflecting the mysterious heavens in the mirror of its being...

But inspite of the risks...my heart often went drowning into the fathomless bottoms to glimpse the unseen glitters... by the day...

And at night, the heart often chased the dreams dancing an unheard melody in a boat...over the lagoon full of stars...!