The Echo


Standing on the edges of the Western
Ghats of India,
I marvelled at the panoramic beauty
of the scene,
And inhaled the pure ether within!
Next, like many others who had
preceded me,
I shouted out my name;
And my voice resounded through the
corridors of time,
As those hills echoed and re-echoed the
Here I was alive and breathing, on top
of the world;
And I played this game again and again!

For one day I too shall become an echo,
without a voice!
With footsteps, without a sound!
A transparent negative of a positive self!
While succeeding generations will continue
to view the Ghats,
Hollering out their names,
And those mountains would faithfully
echo back the same!
Time and again, all playing the same

-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
07 Feb 08


Comments (1)

......wonderful poem....and thought provoking ★