O troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your
footprints in my words.
The mystery of creation is like the darkness
of night-it is great. Delusions of knowledge are
like the fog of the morning.
The waterfall sings, "I find my song,
when I find my freedom."
The dust of the dead words clings to thee.
Wash thy soul with silence.
Love! when you come with the burning lamp
of pain in your hand. I can see
your face and know as bliss.
The world has kissed my soul
with its pain, asking for its
return in songs.
Do not say, "It is morning." and
dismiss it with a name of yesterday.
See it for the first time as
a new-born child that has no name.
We live in this world
when we love it.
Thou wilt find, Eternal Traveller,
marks of thy footsteps
across my songs.
~ Rabindranath Tagore ( from " Stray Birds")
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Nehal
I usually write in my mother tongue Gujarati and sometimes in Hindi and English.
Nehal’s world is at the crossroads of my inner and outer worlds, hope you like the journey…
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