Eve of Holi
A spring eve that’s all different from others
Zephyrs blowing away the leaves
Orange sky adding the flavours
Blooming flowers nodding in a rhythm
So Ironical is nature of this evening
That all these beauties act as ornaments of Kali
On a normal evening man would work
They would work appraising weather
They know it will not last long, they enjoy
Today they as if ignore it, of morning celebrations
Morning is gayest morning of the year
Every reason to see every man
Mankind being unanimous
Evening on contrary balancing it to a usual day
An unexplainable soundlessness, vacuum of thoughts
A day depicting environment without men on work
Streets still hold colours on their chest
But this colour no more is a sign of happiness
People meet each other, everyone has a smile
But that doesn’t match with nature suit
There smiles have scope within its sight
Body of people walking on street enjoy zephyr
Their mind stay startled of unusual quietness
Standing on my entrance, I observe
A swinging litchi tree, missing sound of saw mill
Smiling flowers, orange cloudy sky
Empty streets, parked wagons, and utterly silence
Holi in India is a festival of colours, I remember wildness of it since my childhood, what have been a puzzle for me is it's evening. They are most the gloomy evening I can recall.
