Silence
I have listened in utter silence to my plants talking, telling their experience of Ecstasy when a new flower of a fruit shows or a new leaf or tendril dances, when the flowers talk in their most flirty undertones to the visiting bees, and the same plants crying silently when some leaf or branch is broken by a careless hand of a man or a beast, and seen them groaning in silent hunger and thirst, when even for a day I fail to tend for them.
I talk in silence to printed words, and can see the cries of joy as well as the screams of agony of the characters in them, the heroes, heroines, the villains as also the authors, and when the pages are treated with in a soothing caress and are devoured by the eyes with affectionate expectation and adulation. we can feel the happiness that is experienced by the book too ..surely in silence . And when we throw away a volume carelessly and its beauty gets mutilated I can hear the book cry silently and I cannot hold back my tears.
When I am happy, my Krishna comes to me from where I do not know and tickles me and make me laugh like a mad fellow.. that too silently
And when my heart aches, my feelings and emotions are ruffled and I am burning inside all over... I just ask the fellow Krishna why it is so painful..
And then comes silent but sweet words to soothe me, soft, tender and dexterous but unseen hands .caress my wounded body and the heart, and it is all silence...
But in Silence that fellow works..
Maybe He can hide everything but a tiny piece of peacock feather fallen from his hair would betray his presence..
No wonder, as small children, we used to keep the pieces of Mayilpeeli.. (peacock feather) secretly between the pages of our books..
We knew for sure as children that its owner will visit it.. and He was welcome..
As we grew up the peacock feather and its owner both because nothing to us.. most of us..
But we are still everything to Him.
Krishna I love you
I have listened in utter silence to my plants talking, telling their experience of Ecstasy when a new flower of a fruit shows or a new leaf or tendril dances, when the flowers talk in their most flirty undertones to the visiting bees, and the same plants crying silently when some leaf or branch is broken by a careless hand of a man or a beast, and seen them groaning in silent hunger and thirst, when even for a day I fail to tend for them.
I talk in silence to printed words, and can see the cries of joy as well as the screams of agony of the characters in them, the heroes, heroines, the villains as also the authors, and when the pages are treated with in a soothing caress and are devoured by the eyes with affectionate expectation and adulation. we can feel the happiness that is experienced by the book too ..surely in silence . And when we throw away a volume carelessly and its beauty gets mutilated I can hear the book cry silently and I cannot hold back my tears.
When I am happy, my Krishna comes to me from where I do not know and tickles me and make me laugh like a mad fellow.. that too silently
And when my heart aches, my feelings and emotions are ruffled and I am burning inside all over... I just ask the fellow Krishna why it is so painful..
And then comes silent but sweet words to soothe me, soft, tender and dexterous but unseen hands .caress my wounded body and the heart, and it is all silence...
But in Silence that fellow works..
Maybe He can hide everything but a tiny piece of peacock feather fallen from his hair would betray his presence..
No wonder, as small children, we used to keep the pieces of Mayilpeeli.. (peacock feather) secretly between the pages of our books..
We knew for sure as children that its owner will visit it.. and He was welcome..
As we grew up the peacock feather and its owner both because nothing to us.. most of us..
But we are still everything to Him.
Krishna I love you
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