Walking Complete

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Narrow cobbled bridges led to the bare-soil-lanes. Lined by the trampled grass stubs on both sides, they transformed into dense forests in less than half a meters breadth.

Naked tree branches were playing wave games: stooping low, rising high; creating the second best curves God as an artist drew.

Forest's fragnance were filling the air breeze, delivering the soothing sound bytes of rustling leaves, birdy chirps and the calls of the feline. All in a rhythm, to the eardrums exposed usually to the traffic horns, lecture loudspeakers and human chatters.

Lake waters, stiller than cadaveric skeleton, were the abode of a happy boisterous family of geese, laughing, conversing and joking around in loud quacks.

Iron railings were dividing the water body from her fellow, earth. Beyond the borders, the spooky leafless branches of trees rooted in the middle of the lake, with the dusk sky in the backdrop gave the perfect lifeless picture.

With the cooler night breeze as a constant company, the half of my soul and my half of my soul, were walking complete, in silent synchronicity, in steps as short as ant's. Timing time we were, buying, enjoying, and depositing it in memory circuits.

Deer Park, South Delhi
His Birthday.