To that world once again

This is a tribute to that world, again and again…

I want to visit again that abode, flow like that mighty river and smell again that wet earth.

I want to fill in my eyes again, the sight of damp yellow brown leaves, dangling fresh green leaves.

I want to climb once again those wet steps of hand pump, soft mud steps of lovely huts.

I want to walk all around, be it narrow black tar roads or skipping puddles on wide muddy roads.

I want to feel the rain pouring over my happy self or watching it from a distance.

I want myself to get lost in the fluffy clouds so near, in the green dancing rice fields.

I want to be awestruck again by the creativity of potters, by the working hands of weavers.

I want to wander far away in paths amidst jungle patches, in the depth of village ponds.

I want to smear myself with unending stretches of greenery, dense white fog atop mountains.

I want to lean out again towards the hooting diesel engine, grandeur of that lake so serene.

I want to fall again and again in love with the beauty, unknown and in the people there, unseen.