Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Thy Hands... Entry by Tushar Rhode, IIM Rohtak

Far away from a distance long, I hear his deep voice. 
I sprint towards the source, 
No laying back, no second choice. 

Enthralled is my every sense,
The curve from my lips doesn’t fade out. 
Finally as I spot him, 
“Wait for me, Wait for me”, I shout. 

There he is, there is Darooz,
The peanut selling local vendor. 
Darooz, the paragon of munificence, 
Darooz, the one, so benign and tender. 
He stops when he hears me, 
I reach his static cart. 
He gives me a smile; I return one, 
With a full of excitement heart. 

“Grab hold a handful peanuts”, he tells me,
I refuse with a head shake. 
Though Darooz knows my daily plans, 
He offers once more and says, “Go on, and take”. 

I refuse again, “No” I say,
I sport my naughty little smile. 
But inside, my patience teases me, 
My exhilaration renders me febrile. 
“Why don’t you take my child”, he asks, 
“No Darooz, give me from thy hands, 
I speak out my demand candidly, 
Only then shall I have my deserved bands”. 

“My hands are too small you see,
I myself can take peanuts very few. 
But thy hands can give me a lot more, 
Only thy hands can do justice to my due”. 
“Thy hands are very big Darooz, 
I’ll have what I can never even think. 
By giving me from thy hands, 
You’ll bring me to satisfaction’s brink”. 

Give me from Thy hands Oh Lord! 
Far more than my conceivable bound; 
Far more than I can ask for myself; 
Far more than, my naïve mind can found.

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