Lines to an Indian Air!

And while I was at the airport waiting to board my flight that January day of 2004, each step I took felt so difficult, I could hardly carry my bag, I experienced what it means to have a heavy heart that early January morning.

I was anxious, I wanted to say something, I did not know what and to whom... and thus I wrote:

The time is running short

          My troubled heart beating fast

Come listen to my heart.

          Well! How do I start…?

You stole my heart with your first glance

          …Now I don’t know if I have another chance

Why my heart loses words when it sees you…?

          …Seems to forget all the things it wants to tell you.

In my dreams I see you hand in hand

          When in front of you, seem to be cradled

In your angel like charms

Lose of words and thoughts…

That flight to London seemed like the longest and most difficult one that I ever took... 

While I grew up I was fascinated by literature. Now When I think about it, as a third plane child as Dr Montessori puts it, I was pulled to the art of expression in words. I loved reading poems by Lord Byron, P B Shelley, Robert Frost, John Keats, William Whitman, H W Longfellow, Nissim Ezekiel and W B Yeats.