THE OTHER DAY AT SHANKUMUGHAM


I imagine I was just in time
The sun was on his way for slumber
After a days allotted work
His golden face had turned into crimson red
I looked at him and said
'O setting sun, I don't have any complaints
I live by the hope of seeing you
More beautiful tomorrow dawn'
I kept walking on the shore
I kept looking back to see
If my footprints got erased by the unrelenting waves
I saw a small boy building 
What he cherished to be 
The model of his future dwelling
There was life in his castle of sand
As much as in his own self
Out of fun or unquestioned hope
I couldn't tell, he went on building
Probably friendship is also one such thing
Where one knows like the child on the shore
That you build with excitement and hope
Knowing fully well that you need to 
Build it over and over again
Friendships happen by some strange coincidences
Obeying the laws of lines of friendships on your palm
Then you realize that these lines and ridges
Which you call the lines of friendship
Are mere peculiarities of your hand
Drawn at random by the throw of the celestial dice
I kept walking, it was almost dark by now
The boat of the fisherman with their faint lamps
Began appearing and finally formed an arc
Their separation also seemed to be at remarkable regularity
I could also see some lights in red 
Probably just to signal their partners at home
The moon had come up by now
And the silver hue that occasionally formed
On the breaking waves seemed 
To tell me something, I didn't know
I was sitting and watching 
The pattern in the sky
And trying to find a pattern 
Formed by the tussle between the advancing and retarding waves
The wind grew stronger and the sea 
Seemed to turn itself into 'The mind of Phaedrus'
I got up to walk back home
I could hear a child pleading its parents
To allow it to stay back for the night
I thought in amazement about the attraction
That the sea had on the young and old alike