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A babble of fable...


With those brown mysterious eyes… with that look of wise… yet innocent… yet carefree… Aware sometimes… quite most of the times…

Two important reasons… hold her breath… which haunt her like seasons… one that of imaginations and the other… of memory…

Aman, who brought her to life… nurtured… cared… and gave all of him to her… even her name… The one whom she ask for… from the other important being… from the god whom she believed…

How looking everywhere… for that face… where battling with difficulties of life everyday she faces… looking for a hope… finding joy in every scope…

Mysterious she comes… quite she is… with the gestures of being kind…  lot of things goes on in her beautiful mind…

Silent… timid… yet her looks are wild, what speaks more is that face when it does not smile…

How unaware she is of her brave little heart… crossing those streets holding her father’s hand… leaping the fate… how she changed the states…

Naïve at times, when she talks about her lord… the lord of universe… not as a devote… not as a friend… not as a preacher bit as a part pf him which she herself is…

Those big eyes… glitters even when she is quite… sitting with her thoughts… clouded only to her site… yet they shine… with tears… when coiled with fear… when she realizes her father is around somewhere but not nearby…  

Then comes her savor... then only help… her god whom she keeps calling… praying even while walking…

Looping the peaks… when she speaks… the state from where she decent… in that sweet… funny… sometimes confusing Odia accent…

Twisting… Turning… making it her own, the language Hindi… yet getting forgiveness… without simple face… with a Bindi…  

Tales of her… are something not to bound on the pages… mysterious her life… would never known to any sages… know to be a friend who came after quite good ages…  

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