In the hours of dusty afternoon when the water is cold and crystal clear
The river calls me.
On the sun baked land the banyan tree stands alone in silent meditation.
Like a mother it seems happy to have some quiet time to itself.
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i really enjoyed this poem. i DO wonder if Akhtar was scuba diving in the river when your sari ballooned! i've always wondered if Indian women wear underwear under their saris. hmmm? i'll send this to my/our Sept. 'showcase for PH poets' on my PH site AND send it to MyPoemList. i especially enjoyed these lines: (actually, I loved them) Sitting under the tree I watch the water hitting its raised roots. Restless and agitated as a disturbed mind. bri :)
Everyone experiences the marvels of nature specially playing with water of a river. The difference is that Savita is capable of converting her experience into a beautiful poem like this. I very much enjoyed, becoming of Sari into a balloon.
at distance afar river water looks as calm and translucent as the thoughts of a yogi, Enveloping my mind with its tranquility. Very much beautiful is the comparison. Watching women crossing the shallow waters of river rolling up their sarees is a juvenile delinquency!