Certain things can be said without explanations.
Without the knowledge of three hundred years of history,
they can embody the incompleteness of existence with perfection.
They can make love with the girl smelling like wheat without the
shades of darkness,
pluck a moment of ecstasy from the haunting silence of wilderness
without remembering the forest guard,
smell the granite of old Tamil temples in dark pubs without the
consent of gods.
A man standing at 3rd block can imagine without pain
that the next bus in the stop would run through roads with ever unseen
meanings and reach the doorsteps of the girl he loves
And then the rest of the world would go still
at least for an eternity.
Certain things can be said without explanations.
They can cook up stories without beginnings and ends,
And still believe with all optimism that
he is the only one who leaves from all this.
