170×170 day 33 2.6.15

“An artist is nothing without a patron, it is a harsh truth that history has repeated too often, think of Van Gough and check out the writings of this humble author while you surf for your books please!”

Of dreams and reality


White sand on river bank spreads for miles
Old banyan tree grows on one side,
has been standing there for centuries
Its surrounded by trunks that once were aerial roots,
They cluster around the old tree like young sentinels,
guarding an old king on throne.
The river is shallow but wide, crystal water sparkles
in moonlight, one can see the fishes swimming during daylight.
Men and beast can easily cross her on foot.
In summer dogs swim in her water for hours, sometimes they
sit down in the water for a little respite.
Kids play in her water for hours, there is no fear for drowning,
thus no adult supervision, it’s all childish and rowdy fun.
There is no scope for fishermen in summer, winter, though they try
to take their boat to deeper spots, where a little hole has stored
a little extra water, there they throw their nets and wait.
The farmers carry their vegetables in small baskets to the town
on the other side of the river.


2 thoughts on “170×170 day 33 2.6.15

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