HOLY COMMUNION

POEM

It was a Sunday

on which I saw you first.

Whether you

were seeing me first

on that same day. 

We threw glances at

each other but didn’t

utter a single word.

Cute, pretty,

ineffable and attractive, I  couldn’t  erase

your face for days together

which was indelibly imprinted 

on the wall of mind.

I earnestly wished to

meet you everyday

but after that Sunday

I couldn’t espy you

for a long period.

Whither you went and

whether you would 

appear before me a

second time like we

first met on that

fateful Sunday.

My sullen look told me

that you wouldn’t come

before me another day.

On the contrary, on a

fine  Sunday morning 

I saw you walking along to

the church to attend the

Holy Communion.

Taken aback with

unbelieving eyes I threw

my glances repeatedly

at you and on watching my

embarrassed but pleasant face

you threw a question-

‘Can’t believe? Yes, I am

the same lady you saw

me first on that very Sunday

my heart  missed a beat

and with stammering voice

I asked  -

‘True , I can’t believe myself

from that very day I am

keeping your face in 

my memory and I wanted

again and again   to

see you another day’

you just threw

a beaming smile at me and uttered –

‘But everyday  , every morning,

I see you walking

along the road with your

head held high, but

with a sullen face’.

Again,

 taken aback I was wondering

how come you see me

daily and from where.’

Still, I wonder

from  where you were glancing  at me.

Anyhow the very thought

that you find  time

to watch me walking down

the foot-path to the

bus-station.