on river bed
Green trees run parallel to viridescent water, dancing birds form vibrant shapes in blue sky, with sweat droplets over face comes Junga, the mystery boy. He puts his straw bunch near the babbling brook and lies down when the sun is neither overhead nor in horizon. It is said that Junga’s virgin mother didn’t know for nine months that she had conceived Junga, till the day he was born. Everyday, Junga comes near the brook for solitude, silence and security.
While on ground, he fixes his eyes on the stream, he senses every movement of insects, he feels vibrations lighter than air, subtler than water. His sensations vanish gradually from all over body till they reach the tip of his right index finger, that is where he limits all his senselessness. Like a dead hungry crocodile, rekindling, he snaps out of air, his finger like a laser blade pierces through the heart of a fish swimming in the brook.