Between my awes at the centuries old sculptures
She was lost from my sight.
Maybe a minute only I thought
But why she should roam alone?
Against my wish I fought
To call her on the cellphone.
Should I go to track her out
Peeping through windows’ iron bars
But spoke in me a voice of doubt
Unnecessary she couldn’t be gone far.
108 dark holy spires
She could be under any of them
Caught in the winter’s desire
For a round of hide-n-seek game.
Sometimes a minute could be eerily long
For the shadows of fear to haunt you
What if the wait’s end never comes along
And she forever remains out of view.
Didn’t know when she quietly stood behind
Her nudge gave me a start
I know what now occupies your mind
Those displays of the erotic art!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Were you both in Khajuraho temple? ? Yea, in a labrynthine path or in a crowded place, if one is missing... may be just for a minute, a lightning fear can fleet across the mind... the agony and terror of that moment is beautifully captured here......! Oh what a relief at the final sighting.....! Enjoyed much! ! The closing two lines add great effect! !