In my garland space, in my native place,
I saw him for the first time.
His brown eyes stirring stories,
His bloomy lips touching wind,
His flurry hair following their destiny,
His musical ears, could hear every beat.
In my garland space, in my native place,
I felt him for the first time.
In the ocean of facades,
He became peace.
In the forest of mirage,
His movements is all I see.
In the serenity of moonlight,
He was the purity.
In the doom of sunlight,
He was my insanity.
In my garland space, in my native place,
I was lost somewhere, for the first time.
Sitting in the rain,
Pouring out the pain,
I was lost somewhere.
In the beauty of his eyes,
That sparkled my heart,
I was lost somewhere.
In the light of rain,
Standing alone,
I was lost somewhere.
Behind the curtains of leaves,
Calling out for his voice,
I was lost somewhere.
In my garland space, in my native place,
I loved him for the first time.
- Mahak Agrawal
F.Y.B.A.
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