Today the bhondra is visible, some blurry-blurry.
But like him, seeing, seeing, he has stopped. Only then, with the faint of a wind, that silent folly is broken. And heard a drop of tears from the eyes.
And again, everything seems to be clearly visible and heard. But still he is thinking like a silent sitting in the same way, silently. As if I’m waiting for someone…
Written by Vikrant Rajliwal
(One of my short Hindi tales is translated by Vikrant Rajliwal)