The things one does for footwear

This was something that happened around May-June this year. I had to be hospitalized for a day or two, to get some routine intra-venous injections. As the hospital protocols required me to be accompanied by an “attendant”, my younger sister, Lini, agreed to accompany me.

As it was noon by the time I finally got admitted to St. Johns, Lini had to go home to get lunch for me. Tired already of lying in the hospital bed, twiddling my thumbs, I decided to escort her till the entrance.

We were climbing down the stairs from my room on the 3rd floor ( I hate waiting for the elevator), when the sole of Lini’s sandal on her left foot came out. Poor thing, she dragged her foot along and tried to walk in what was left of her sandals as best as she could. She practically took 15 mins to climb down the remaining 2 floors, lifting her left foot with the torn footwear hanging limply from it, in an elaborate manner, before placing it carefully onto the next step. As you may have experienced, walking in such a fashion is not only physically excrutiating, it looks ridiculous, inviting the disconcerting stares of passers-by.

As we proceeded laboriously (and with unusual patience in my case), with our descent, a nurse suggested that we could purchase footwear in the hospital. I was aware of items, such as soap, mosquitoe repellant, combs and other bric-a-brac of our humdrum lives, being sold in the hospital premises but footwear being part of this list was news to me.

On being told that it was sold somewhere near the Trauma Ward in the ground floor, I promptly started off in search of this place, with Lini limping behind me, struggling to keep up with my pace.

I wandered dreamily into the corridor to which the board proclaiming “Trauma Care” pointed, and was immediately dragged down to reality. The distressing sight of accident victims lying sprawled on the beds, with their limbs severed and heavily bandaged/ plastered took the wind out of me. The heavy sadness that hung in the air hit me like a bolt from the blue. I was least expecting scenes of handicapped patients with their morose relatives, trying to come to terms with a life that involved one or more, less limbs. The atmosphere was physically recoiling. I’m sure Lini was also shocked at the sight that greeted her.

I was directed to the fag-end of the ward on enquiring for footwear, by a lady in a white coat- perhaps a doctor or a senior resident. This reassured me that I was not in the wrong place but the ward seemed to end in a locked door. Just as I was feeling disheartened, a lady walked past me towards the door. I stopped her and asked her if they sold footwear there.

She looked at me from head to toe, a little strangely with a weird sort of expression, almost like she was sizing me up. She also had a good look at Lini who was still limping behind me.

Then she asked, “Who is the patient?”.

I was a little taken aback at this question and wondered what relevance it could hold to the sale of a pair of slippers. However, thinking that the hospital may have a policy of selling footwear only to patients, I said, “I am”. Lini and I have same-sized feet.

The lady again looked at me and Lini with a quizzical look. I should have realized what was going on atleast by then, but the dimwit that I had turned into that afternoon, I failed to understand the relevance of her question.

She nodded her head, as if asking me to wait there, and proceeded to unlock the door.

As I was standing a few feet away, and the door blocked my view, I couldn’t figure out what was behind the door. Just then a man carrying a toolbox, who looked like some sort of a workman, went into the room. The lady asked me to enter and the moment I did, another unexpected sight took my breath away.

The room was filled with prosthetic limbs- finished and unfinished (and let me tell you, it looks a little weird looking at rows of legs and arms, stacked one upon the other, especially if you walk into them for the first time in your life, like I had). The man had a measuring tape in his hand, ready to take the measurements for the kind of “footwear” I required. Needless to say, I was totally embarrassed and quickly explained to the kind lady that I was looking out for “normal” footwear and was mistakenly directed to that place.

After apologizing sheepishly, I turned back with a very wide stupid grin on my face, just in time to stop Lini from entering the room. When I told her it was “special” kind of footwear that was available there, both of us broke into laughter. We looked like a bunch of idiots and may have even appeared insensitive and uncouth to be giggling away in a ward filled with accident victims.

The moment I come out, trying hard to control my laughter, who should I run into but my doctor! He was obviously surprised to see me coming out of the Trauma Care ward, and confused as well to see me laughing my head off, like I had just attended a comedy show in there! I’m sure he was left as confused even after I explained to him, amidst wide grins and suppressed laughter, what I had just done in search of footwear.

So many words…..

So many words
quivering on the lips
So many things
Close to the heart, left unsaid
So many memories
framed in the galleries of the mind
So many moments that seem
to be frozen in the annals of time

Will those words ever be spoken
How can those times ever be forgotten

How is it that we grew so far apart
When did the silences creep in
Why in our moments together
Did we allow our egos to seep in
When did the special feeling
we nurtured for each other
Turn into pain and then into torture

I have tried a thousand times
To bridge the distances
To speak the words long awaited
To forget and to forgive
Nothing can change the way I feel for you
Why do you refuse to understand it.

The thoughts that chug along…..

Somewhere along the Karnataka-AP border
8th August, 2008

I’m writing this from the Kacheguda Express. Tomorrow morning, I will be in Hyderabad after a very long & tiring 18 months. Listening to my music and taking in as much of the sights as I can, I feel an inexplicable joy. Not just a calm, the relief that comes with a welcome break from the hectic Bangalore life or the happy thoughts of visiting the vibrant city of the Golconda. It’s a feeling that encompasses all that and much more- a feeling of pure, inexplicable joy. I do not know the reason for this immense joy. I’m just glad that a train journey still excites me, the same way it did, ages ago.

My sisters have been the freaky ones in the family who, till date, go gaga over the distant hooting of a train. But again, how many 21 yr olds still retain the passion for something they adored as 5 yr olds? I, on the other hand, still am a little awed at the sight of the huge, metallic engine, hissing menacingly as it approaches. It is the train journey that I am a sucker for.

Nothing but a train journey gives the opportunity to revisit the relationship one often forgets to nurture with the inner self. For me, this is a time for introspection- a mental stock-taking time. A time to be thankful for, for the big and the small ways in which life has changed since my last stop at Kacheguda.

The various personalities, each with its own eccentricities and mysteries that one gets to observe and meet during the trip are one of the delights that come with a train journey. Some fellow travelers prefer to keep to themselves, content with their books and music, and I probably belong to this set of people now, as I try to marshall my burgeoning thoughts onto paper. There are others- constant observers and always ready with a helping hand, but still a little too shy to venture beyond the smile that escapes them everytime you catch their eye. Then there are the gregarious, talkative types- thankfully milder versions of Geet in Jab We Met.

No matter what the category of people, there is the wonderful element of non-commitment ingrained in the relationships built during a train journey. The feeling that any interaction holds good only till the train comes to a stop. Destinations, work lives and even life histories are exchanged. Then sweet words are spoken, false promises of keeping in touch are made and people part. So very alike the bigger journey each one of us undertakes.

Not all go through life with the same excitement and joy they have when they start off. Somewhere along the line, they seem to forget that happiness is, but a state of mind. So many are too pre-occupied with the nitty- gritties of life; they forget to savour the experience of the journey itself. The shy ones want to get so much more out of life but are unable to cross the self-drawn boundaries of doubt, inhibition and ego. Then there are the over-enthusiastic ones, who, in their eagerness to get as much out of life as possible, often burn up their energy before the journey is half gone by. They forget that not all the best experiences of life need be the most exciting or adventurous and miss out on the smaller pleasures, which are often the best things in life.

These thoughts and many more, will continue to chug along as the fields, trees, hills and clouds disappear into the fast approaching dusk. Right now, I am determined to enjoy them before they get enveloped by the velvety darkness of the night.

P.S. Take a break. Take time to “…stand and stare….” . Go and get yourself a railway ticket to a place you’ve always wanted to escape to. And rediscover the delights of the train journey.

…..So, what happens when your gym doesn’t have a restroom?

Date: 15th June, 08

For the past 4 months now, I have been frequenting the gym every weekend, with my good friend, Anu.

Now if you had ever seen me, you would have almost choked to death in shock or a fit of laughter, depending on how you’d take the aforementioned piece of information. I belong to the tribe of size-zero things, who never seem to gain an ounce of weight, no matter how many ice-creams or black forest pastries you catch us hogging. If I were any thinner, I might as well become invisible to the naked eye.

So it is of endless amazement to people that I could go to the gym and still not evaporate into thin air. For the benefit of those of you who are beginning to think that you knew me, but not well enough to know that I am the gymming sort, let me assure you, I visit the gym not to bend iron, but to attend the salsa classes held their.

Today would have been no different from the rest of the Sundays, had I not felt this gnawing hunger. As I hadn’t eaten a morsel of food for the past 4 hrs, we stopped at a crowded place in Jayanagar - Cool Joint ( that place still offers grub that is good value for money inspite of the soaring inflation levels) and quickly grabbed a paneer sandwich. Just as Anu was getting her bike out of the parking lot, a Maruti car stops right in front of us, effectively locking us in the parking lot and the dunce driving it, steps out and disappears God knows where! Exasperated as I was, I lost my cool. If it was me in Anu’s place, I might as well have banged right into the damn car to get out of there. Just then, the dunce returns and starts moving his car. I began berating him for having the nerve to park his car, bang in the middle of the road, at a crowded place like that on a Sunday afternoon. The cheek that this nut had, he retorted that he had done us a favour by not delaying us further! Just at that very moment, when my temper was threatening to make me look like a beetroot (albeit a thin one, mind you!), the Gods decided that they would give me some fun and excitement for the day, and sent me their winged messenger- a crow - who promptly embellished my black track pants ( not just any track pants, I got them recently from Weekender, and they cost me a bomb!), with what else, - crow shit.

This was the 2nd time in 25 yrs of my existence that I was being blessed with this incredibly loathsome organic matter from the heavens (I ‘ll spare you the details of the first experience for now).

I managed to wipe off most of the substance or whatever you’d want to call it ( as I’m trying to make this is family-oriented blog, let’s stick to calling it “the substance”), spread and got rubbed in. Needless to say, it looked ghastly against the black background.

All I had was around 20 mins before my scheduled time at the gym and I had no time to go back home and change. Most importantly, (and as the title suggests, the # 1 reason why you are reading this extract of my ramblings) the gym doesn’t have a restroom!!

Have no doubts, this is not one of those seedy, smelly, ill-ventilated gyms that have sprouted by the dozen in every nook and cranny of Bangalore. This is one of the reputed ones which attracts sophisticated, classy people, like yours faithfully, from as far as 12-15 kms. Good dance floor, passable acoustics, fine ambience, beautiful crowd and great views (was referring to the views from the windows, for the benefit of those with an over-active imagination) , but NO RESTROOMS! Small price to pay, some would say, especially if the trainer, or the dance instructor, in my case, is a hot bod!

So there I was, wondering where I could wash this substance off me. The thought that immediately came to mind was that I could perhaps wash it off at the small eatery opposite to the gym but I was doubtful if the stall-owner would welcome someone using a good amount of his stock of drinking water to wash something off the trousers.

Then I remembered this very reputed, 3-4 star restaurant, just next to the eatery. A naughty idea was beginning to take shape. I got Anu to stop at this restaurant, inspite of her efforts to make me drop the plan (one of her arguments being that there was no plan). She kept saying she didn’t have the confidence to do it. I just told her to stick to me and to let me do all the talking.

So we let the valets direct us to the 2-wheeler parking lot and trotted up the steps confidently (or at least pretended to), to a “Good afternoon, Madam” from the “Air-India -Maharajah” styled guard. The moment we entered, a packed dining hall greeted us, with several maitre-des rushing around taking orders. One of them approached me immediately and I asked for a table for 2. For the first time that day, I heard sweet words when the maitre-de said that we would have to wait for at least 30 mins. Great!, half an hour would be more than enough time for me! We walked across the dining hall to a small passageway that sort of doubled as a waiting lounge. There was a family of 4 already waiting there. I left Anu there and without a word, rushed to the tiny, one-person-only washroom. I had not even managed to clean up half the mess when a lady almost barged in. In the confusion, I promptly dropped a whole load of water on my pants (sorry, pun unintended!). I desperately began to dry my pants when I heard another bang on the door. Realising that I must be holding up someone in urgent need of the rest-room, I quickly wiped off as much of the mess I could and got out. To my chagrin, there was no one waiting outside the door.

Now that I had already stepped out into waiting lounge, I could see another maitre-de trying to talk to a wide-eyed, white-faced Anu. I rushed to them and repeated that we wanted a table for two. This time the maitre-de was ready with a response. With a grin that threatened to reveal his all of his toothy wonders, he said there was one ready. The smiles disappeared from our faces. It was a pure stroke of luck that this fellow seemed to have remembered something urgent at that very moment and quickly disappeared before we could respond.

All this was being played out under the very observant gazes of the family that was waiting there. Realizing that it would all look very fishy to that family if we just walked out from there, we sat down, without a clue as to what we were going to do next. Then dear old Anu, ( bless you, my dear!) came up with a brainwave. She said suddenly, “Give her a call and ask her if she will be late,”. If it was anybody with a lesser presence of mind in those circumstances, they would have surely balked out. My mind reeling under the surprise on hearing Anu talking gobbledy-gook, I must have said, “She will be late,” or something to that effect. After some uncomfortable minutes, during which the family was unashamedly staring at us with increasing curiosity, I got up, as if in a trance, and walked out into the dining hall, with a startled Anu, fast behind me, still imploring me to “Give her a call”.

Now, let me tell you, I am by no means a person who can keep a straight face in a comic situation. I’d die if I didn’t break out into uproarious laughter on hearing a PJ. You know how some people’s laughter is so very infectious, you will automatically start laughing, without a clue as to why you are doing so, on hearing them laugh so heartily. Well, I am one of these people having an unstoppable and contagious laughter.

Now, the laughter inside me was swelling up with every innocent-sounding “Why don’t you give her a call?”, from Anu. I had to let something out for fear of exploding into laughter. So I muttered, “ Who do you want me to call, dear?”. This was the last straw. I almost sprinted out of the dining hall, across the very puzzled guard and down the steps and burst out laughing.

I’m sure the guard and the valets became very, very suspicious when they saw us high-fiving and laughing our heads off. It was with great effort that we managed to walk back to Anu’s bike and get out of there before somebody called up NIMHANS to pick up 2 wackos who were literally going mad with laughter!!

I know you need time....

So I’m waiting…..still waiting
It’s been days, and weeks,
Weeks, that have turned to months.
Waiting for you to open up
Waiting for you to return.

How long will it take
For you to muster the courage
And take those steps
Towards me again.

How long will it be
Before you find an excuse
To tease me, to make me blush,
To make me laugh again.

How long will it take
For you to get over the past,
To forget those last moments
Spent beneath the stars,
And to laugh over those last words we shared.

How long will it be
Before we share,
Our “crappy” chats again,
Before you message me,
Twenty times a day, again.

How long will it take
For you to return,
To be your usual self,
How long will it be
Before we meet again.

I’ve grown weary of the stolen glances,
The hidden smiles, the expectant looks.

How long will it be,
Before you smile at me again
How long will it be,
Before you talk to me again.

I want you to know—
I’ll be waiting,
Waiting for the coldness to pass,
Waiting to feel the bliss that once was.
I’ll be waiting,
Waiting for us to be friends again.

Spring of 2008

Time: Feb…Around 1 week to go for V- day.

There’s something magical in the air- almost stifling in its intensity yet refreshingly light. Misery bordering on maniacal depression and yet intertwined with indelible joy. A sense of euphoria, yet tinged with pain.

As I sit in front of my much abused machine, life that has changed and the lives that I have discovered in the last couple of months, each with one common thread, come to mind…

The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of- Blaise Pascal

It didn’t take long for what started off as an innocent school romance to grow into an abusive, monstrous relationship for Anu. Everytime she ended up with a bruised eye or a bleeding upper lip, she would resolve never to get back with him again. But all would be forgotten everytime he came back with those tear-filled eyes, pleading forgiveness.

Three years and nothing much had changed in their relationship. Fortunately, she realised that she must end it and has stuck to that resolution for some time now.

Last week, one of her friends, someone who, by Anu’s admission has the reputation of being a playboy and who she more than likes, proposed to her in true filmy style- in front of his parents, on one knee.

Anu is on Cloud 9 now. Having known Anu as a person who gets carried away by the ups in life, and also knowing that Love is blind, her friend Priya hopes that this time round, she is in a truly happy and long-lasting relationship.

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love– Albert Einstein

Priya was once asked a question by a person she regarded as her friend, philosopher and guide, “ Don’t you have any boyfriends?”. To which she replied, “ No, not boyfriends, but I have many good friends who happen to be boys.” Touché. That was a long time ago.
Priya is still the kind of person you want to pour your heart out to, just after a couple of meetings.

More than once, Anu has asked her if she is it was just friendship that she shared with her friend Rahul. Priya, always knew that the answer was a “No” but also wondered if she would ever meet anyone who would regard her more than just as a friend.

After going through a harrowing time of her life, during which both Siddharth and Rahul proved to be the best of friends that one could ever have, and literally being given a new lease of life, Priya met him. Just when she felt she couldn’t be happier in life, she was embarking on the best and the most magical time of her life.

It hardly took a week or so for them to become close friends. He began to trust her to such an extent that he began to seek her advice on many personal matters. Together, they were the recipe for total fun and madness. People who Priya when she was with him, felt she transformed into a totally new person- crazy, demented and so very different from the old, grandmotherly Priya that they had come to know.

Priya didn’t realize what it was during those couple of months when she came to know him.
It was only when she moved away, that she began to realize what it was that she felt for him. Some of you may raise an eyebrow at the thought of somebody falling for someone in just 2 months and may even label it as a mere crush. But sometimes you know what it is when you meet the right person. You really don’t need more time and nor do you need to know anything more about the person. You just know and the more you ignore it or try to talk yourself out of it, the more you are just deluding yourself.

Now that Priya accepted that it was no more friendship, at least on her end, she felt she had to tell him the truth in the hope that if nothing at all, it might atleast put an end to the thoughts in her mind which seemed to get directed to him all the time. She was surprised with herself and almost shocked but she had to admit that she was getting crazy about him.

Every minute that she spent with him, there was something that kept accusing her of being dishonest with him. She couldn’t bear the thought of him telling her about his latest blind date and asking her advice on how he must proceed, knowing that he was daft when it came to women. Priya decided that the only way to end this was to come clean with him. After pouring out her predicament to the (thankfully much saner) Ghaza, who gave her the required dose of courage, she told him one evening.

His reaction was close to what Priya had expected. The first reaction was one of shock and helplessness. Priya told him immediately that she understands if the feeling is not mutual and if they could still be friends. The poor chap, totally overcome with this sudden turn of events, blurted that yes, of course, they could still be friends.

Over the next couple of days, his reaction turned to anger, than to a “it-happens-in-life” attitude and then finally into indifference. He began to avoid her and had somehow convinced himself that the best way to deal with this would be to consider her as nothing more than a stranger.

Priya was heartbroken for a while. She had her fair share of sudden bursts of tears at times and places that would have embarrassed her under any other circumstances. Other times, she went through a daily routine like a zombie. At times, she had a mad urge to throttle him and couldn’t even bear to hear his voice. One morning, she just woke up and decided that this cannot go an forever and that it is high time she moved on.

Today, both of them still become a little conscious when they are around each other. Their interactions, which often used to last for hours, are now limited to a perfunctory “Hi” and “How are you”.

Priya knows that one day she will look back and laugh at what has happened but right now, all that she wants is to be friends with him again. Priya is a smart girl. Friendship or not, she knows it is best to move on.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.—Aeschylus

It would be an understatement to say that Rahul is a hybrid version of Jim Carrey . Among other things, he is a flirt of the first order and has more than one funny bone. Naturally, he has always been a “Hit” with the girls. People ( note, it is not just women) love spending time with him and would agree that the best way to do so is to listen to him narrate his infamous (mis)adventures with girls, the pranks he has played on them and the punishments he has had to suffer, in return.

As the No. 1 prankster of the group, he has often made Riya the butt of his jokes. Soon after Rahul met Riya, he realised that Riya wasn’t just one of the several other girls that he had played pranks upon. After going through the rigmarole of “She’s just a sweet (not to mention, stunning!) girl”, and “ We’re just friends”, and “It’s just a crush maybe- just a passing phase”, he acknowledged that he couldn’t keep deceiving himself forever.

Strangely (so he thought), once he admitted to himself to that he had feelings for her, he found it harder to speak candidly to her as he once did. He tried ignoring her. At times, he pretended she was a stranger to him, in the hope that his “extra” feelings for her would evaporate, leaving behind the friendship which started it all.

Some of their mutual friends began to notice this change in Rahul whenever Riya was around. He would behave coldly towards her, not even acknowledging her presence and at other times, realizing it was stupid of him to treat her that way, would go back to being friendly with her, only to keep oscillating between these two sets of behaviour. Needless to say, this oddity still confuses the poor girl.

It has been close to 2 years since then and Rahul has still not told Riya how he feels about her. Yes, he is a chicken-hearted, as you can expect all love-struck guys to be when it comes to expressing their love.

At the age of 16, Rahul secretly opened the bag of a girl who happened to be his classmate and got a burning, red cheek as the reward for this very enterprising task. He once slapped his dance partner on a Dandiya night (she went on to become his sister-in-law, but let’s keep that story for another time) with broken spectacles and another swollen red cheek ( which fast became his trademark feature) to show for it.

You would think that for someone like him, 2 years is more than enough time to come clean with his girl. The only thing preventing him is that he feels Riya would never say “yes” to him even if she did have any feelings for him. Rahul is aware that in the past, when Riya liked another fellow, she still had to break off with him coz her parents wouldn’t agree to their relationship. Rahul has realized that Riya would never say “yes” to him as her parents would never accept anyone outside their community.

Rahul has sobered a lot in these 2 years. People attribute it to the “effect of tides of time”, but they will probably never get to know how an incredibly mature, sensitive and sensible person has grown inside the carefree, ever-joking, “life-is-a-play” attitude Rahul.

Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

Ghaza is someone you would call a “classic, traditional, no-nonsense belle”. A very down-to-earth person who has been a pillar of support for her family – a working mother, a brother who is yet to come out of his teens and a father who has had to retire from his once active life due to his ailing health.

Ghaza met Praveer around 5 years ago. Praveer was the one who approached her and tried to get her to accept him. He waited long for Ghaza, who, knowing the implications of a cross-community, cross-cultural relationship very well, felt it was best to give it time and not to rush into things. But his patience and perseverance finally won over Ghaza.

For the past 3 years, Ghaza has been trying to get her parents’, especially her iron-willed Mother’s approval for the relationship. Her mother has almost disowned her and Ghaza cannot even remember when was the last time her she had a heart-to-heart talk with her Mom. Her ailing father still nurtures hopes of his first-born returning to them and of being wedded to a nice obedient chap hailing from their community. But too much time has passed and too many things have been said and done.

Ghaza and Praveer have decided that, as waiting is not taking them anywhere, it is best for them to tie the knot.

Ghaza still has many unanswered questions about how life would be after the marriage.
The religious and cultural gap between the world that she was raised in and the world that she will be living in after wedding is too wide and it unsettles her. Knowing that she would never have her family’s support once she takes the final step, she is scared to ask herself if what she will do if she is unable to adjust herself to her new world. These and many other questions have risen of late but Ghaza knows that tying the knot is the only step ahead. Turning back was never and is still not an option.

Ghaza has told Priya that she hopes to get married to Praveer in the next couple of months. Priya can only hope that the love that has thrown Ghaza into this whirlpool shows her the way to navigate out of it successfully.

*************

……Change is in the air. The harshness has melted into a soothing warmth. The leaves have fallen and new ones are waiting to take their place. Times are no longer as we had known them to be. Lives are changing and so are the people.

……..Buds and flowers are beginning to adorn the skeletal trees. Long before you know it, these withered, bare branches will be crowded with flowers.

The lives of these 4 individuals will never be the same again. Many more springs will come and so will the winters. It is only the most blessed of us who find their true love and who have the courage and gumption to proceed with it. To the less fortunate, as somebody once said, “ First, all relationships are with yourself – and sometimes they involve other people. Second, the most important relationship in your life – the one you have, like it or not, until the day you die- is with yourself”.

Crystals on the Window

The growing rustle of the windswept leaves,
The soothening chill of the strengthening breeze,
The threatening weight of the nimbus sheets,
The expectant calm, the vanishing heat.

The roar, the rumble, the celestial drumroll
The spears of lightening that escape from the heavens

The patter coming down from the skies
The sweet fragrance that has begun to rise,
The dust that has begun to settle
The freshness that has begun to emerge.

The wetness of the raindrops on the cheek
The nip in the air that excites you, that covers you whole.

And then they appear
Before you know,
A thousand in a second
And then some more,

Quivering with every breath you take
Shining like translucent pearls,
Almost dancing to the rhythm of the rain,
They show you a thousand images,
Varied colours, in their tiny spheres.

They shine, they shimmer, in all their glory
For the moment is theirs
And they might be gone too soon
But it is always worth the wait,
In my solitary state
To look up and see
The shimmering, the ethereal,
The wondrous Crystals on the window.