The Grass is greener on the Other Side

I sat in my balcony beside the rose plant. I have been seeing 3 buds which haven't blossomed since three weeks. I look far in the sky where the land meets the sky. The land has met the sky. The sun is yet to meet the land. I have been waiting for the sun to set - for once if this sun sets then there will be morning the next day. For once the next day will have roses blossomed all over. And then the air around me will be filled with freshness and with aroma.


The tired Sun refuses to go any further. A drowsy me lie down on the river bed waving my hand in the clear water of the river. But I can't see deep down the river. I can feel straw and leaves passing by and I try to catch hold of them but they slip each time. I am amused. I have never been able to catch hold of small things in my life. They have always been playing touch-and-go with me.


I run my fingers in the grass bed sitting near the Kadamb tree. I look up and see the yellow fruit which appeals me so much but yet can't quench my hunger. I look down at the grasses, they are turning yellow. They wish if I cry and the water runs over them. They will be quenched for once. But I do not have more tears to shed.


I am yet to run behind the sun - chase it - wish it to set one day. The next day will be more beautiful.