That Old Monk I Met!

POETRY

a free verse poem on a memory from long back

that face came back to me,
the face from Sarnath, of that monk,
traversing a decade, through space and time,
his old face, so old, that the folds of the saggy skin,
twisted and turned in layers over his face and eyes,
I was bewildered when, as I passed him, his hands rose, thin and crumpled,
asking for my hand, and I, a bit frightened, did so,
his eyes looked at my palms, eyes that seemed closed, I stared at the pair for long,
as he caressed them, his fingers meandering through the lines of my palm,
and after a moment, that seemed like an infinity,
he slowly let go of my hands and uttered,
“engineer!”
the kid in me didn’t quite swallow the meaning,
but dad smiled, went and offered him some food and money,
now, as that peaceful face came back to me,
I wonder how did he do what he did,
was it a blind guess, was he a blind man,
and if not, how did he guess what he guessed,
probably, there was something divine in him,
probably not, I would never know, but I for sure,
would remember that face, that smile, that pureness,
which spoke of something that I went on and became!

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