I am a work in progess..
a solitary dropp in an immense ocean.. What do I have to teach? only to learn.. to absorb.. to feel.. to live..
each experience, every moment.. a fragrant flower in the bouquet of nostalgic memories..
my life is a priceless canvas.. one of a kind.. each brilliant stroke either heightens or diminshes.. the 'I' in me.. till there is no more me.. only a unique colorful masterpiece...
waves buffet and lash tauntingly.. even as the wind howls and carves rivulets of pain mercilessly..
finds me on bended knee with bowed head crying to the Almighty..
O Teacher indulge me.. for I am incomplete..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem