Once upon a time,

When I was young,

There was a Monk,

An Old, Wise Monk,

Who was always present,

Through my University years,

And the early period of my job,

When, quite often, I sought his advice, solace,

Many a times in desperation,

And truly, he imparted more knowledge in empty classrooms,

Between boisterous friends, than the most learned professors ever could,

He accompanied us to the idyllic Machan on the ridge across the campus,

For occasions that were special, priceless,

He was the spirit of Holi, in front of the DUTA *** canteen,

And Diwali and Christmas in dilapidated U-special buses,

He swayed to the wild beats of the dhol on friends’ weddings,

To the celebrations of Lohri on bitter winter evenings,

He commiserated when a heart- deep in love- was shattered,

Was the frenzy, as Jagjit Singh rendered ghazals in college festivals…..

But then, slowly, I, and the Old, Wise Monk, drifted apart,

As new loves and passions,

More refined, more polished, more solemn- intruded……

Meanwhile, the wheel of time rolled on,

And one fine evening,

When I was already on the wrong side of fifty,

And about two decades after we had drifted apart,

The Old, Wise Monk, and I came face to face,

The Old, Wise Monk- who was still as ‘old’- as when I had first met him,

Pretended to have forgotten me,

But my deep-rooted reverence for him was unscathed,

Kept alive by the treasure house of memories,

Bustling in a corner of my heart…….

Slowly, ever so slowly,

As I took the Old, Wise Monk in my hands,

To caress its timeless outline with my fingers,

As I used to do, once upon a time,

The bonds of kinship rekindled,

The embers, the passions reignited,

And as the searing liquid burned through my innards,

As it used to do, once upon a time,

I realized, that some relations never ebb with time,

But only grow stronger,

As is the case with me, and the Old, Wise Monk……