Ektuku chnoa laage

The slightest of caress and a few heard words— With them I compose in my mind my spring melody. Heady with a blend of Palash and Chanpa scents, I weave a net of colours and essences musically. Whatever flashes by every now and then Sparks in my consciousness dream-like images; Whatever goes far also flutters my thoughts tunefully And counting time to tinkling ankle bells I spend my days!