Not a single sound would sweep the quiet calm
All waiting – like soldiers who have heard the alarm,
The rustling of leaves, whispering of wind
All sounds had ceased.
Not a bird would move its wing,
Even the river had ceased to sing,
Dry leaves tiptoed on the grass
Nothing would allow a sound to pass.
The moon hid behind a cotton cloud
And sunlight pulled its golden shroud,
For a moment creation closed its eyes
And then was heard the thundering sound of a breaking heart.
(9.46 am. 28th July 1996. New Delhi)
