Fragments
It was love in first sight,
Or better say, first touch,
When my teacher gave it+++(a book)+++ to me,
Sharing the gift that was from his teacher.
We have journeyed around the globe together,
And have remained a loyal companion for each other,
I do not know who I am any more,
Were I to expunge the book that is in me.+++(5)+++
In a long life-journey, some pages unravelled,
And I gave some new coverings,
But every time, I hear the voice in my ears,
Of my teacher explaining the words when I open it.+++(4)+++
Being old vivifies the sense of impermanence,
And the craving sweeps my being,
Recalling the urge of its transference,
For books are not meant to turn to dust,
Like our bodies when we die.
‘Time is eternal and the world is big,’
My teacher would say, citing Sriharsa,
But I know in my own finite being,
I have to sing before the oblivion.