THE GUEST

The guest

The cold breeze in the burning sun,

the blissful sight not missed by many,

the minnows que up,

masters hold their sight,

some joyfully mess up,

these showers of pearl drops fall on lucky few

some die to catch her glimpse

some perish chasing the mirage

some with burned egos

some waiting for the rain to soak up the red sands of the ghats.

SUDIN S K