THE LITTLE STRANGER

One afternoon
while resting in the balcony
of her flat
while all other flat residents
went inside for the afternoon nap
heard she from a
distance
an enchanting music
music flowing like
a caressing breeze
that made her oblivious of
the surroundings.
When it breezed
into her,
to the entire surroundings
she knew not,
Her eyes like her ears
got drunk with
melodious flute music
'Leave me not alone, stranger,
Leave me not...'
Her memories drove backwards
and stuck upon a
melody,
of an yester-year
Bollywodd film....
Music brings along
memories of
pain, agony, love, ecstasy.
A handsome face of a young man
who lived opposite to her flat
once
the first signs of strangeness
smiles,
exchange of eloquent glances
the unspoken words and
with tears gathering in his eyes
one day bid silent adieu
only a flying kiss he gifted
and went alone to an unknown land.
Like an uninvited guest
the face,
the looks,
the smiles,
eloquent glances,
unspoken words,
like lovely images,
as if like a poem on celluloid,
came before her face once again.
Her ears close to the balcony wall
sensed she the
nearing, nearing melodious
flute music.
Her heart began to play
the role of a percussion instrument
her eyes glowing
like the afternoon silvery sun,
glanced around with
the eyes of a
proverbial danseuse.
Saw she a handsome child
in his early teens
walking along the path,
with a bunch of flutes
kept inside a long bag,
hanging over his shoulder.
Still
he,
caring none,
forgetful of surroundings
played on music,
the same music
that always made her
drunk with joy and pathos.
He moved along,
longed she however
for his glance
but he moved,
ahead, ahead.....
and ahead....
'Leave me not alone, stranger,
Leave me not...'