Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The day he said 'thank you'...

He looked at the valley of smoke
And in his eyes saw she tiredness like no joke...
And then she heard him say
'it has been a long tiring yet fulfilling day
And its a long time I haven't said
Thank you to anybody...
But thank you...'

She heard him saying that to her
His eyes fixed at the forest of deodar...

'Get out of here as fast as you could
And when you probably would
Reach the other side of the hill
find a small cottage white you surely will
And rows of bushy grass and three trees
There you would see
A small table made of oak
Placed right at the portico...
You would just open the first drawer
A Bible you would find there
And three thousand and five hundred bill
Take that with you...
That would serve you for days
Buy a bag of corns with that
And the land beside the cottage
You grow crops there...
That way you might live...
And you could if you wish
Plant a sapling for me...
Somewhere by the wooden fence...
You could christen it by me...'
She told him
Looking at his tired eyes...

And the valley of smoke
Stood witness to their story...
The man with a tired soul
Face torn by grief and blood
She knew that was real and the only choice...

'its a long time he hadn't thanked anyone
And I am the lucky one...'
She thought
And her head she gave a half hearted nod...
And let go...
Of him...
The valley of smoke
And his thanksgiving...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...