Finally I am home. The prodigal, the wastrel…I watch as the rain drop slowly drips into my tea cup. Drip Drip Drip slowly and sing to me of the coming rains….The last time I had seen the rains dripping down seems so far away. A low hanging flight over oceans ,snow capped peaks and the parched dust bowls takes me to the embryo of my memory….its long back..maybe a decade. The blush of winters kisses on my cheeks had still not faded. I am standing in a slowly fading suspension of memory. In the shimmering of the lights at twilight at a distance distance I can see the peaks of Kasauli and Solan…Whisper to me Oh Winds gushing from silent lands..where the Sun’s warmth is sipped on lonely winding paths up hill sides. And in the distance the Pahari song is wafted to me by that mellow but sallow wind across time and space..
No ones home,as I take a puff on the precipice of memory a single thunderclap resounds across the valleys, the peaks and reaches my longing ears..And then it happens. A drop falls on my forehead.. A tingle in my nerves warms the spaces within…And I know Winter has truly arrived…with An itinerant droplet from across the Levant as its harbinger..
Yes the time is right..for resting my tired spirit on the anvil of destiny…And So forth..From Here to Eternity…..
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