TANKA PROSE
A relief on wooden board of strings.

After day's toil resulting in extreme exhaustion and ennui , you need a break, a salutary
Shift into something to console and take you away from the humdrum routine bugging
You. Yes, this routine is for bread winning, body tiring from morn till evening in the work spot,
a family to support and indefatigable urge for charity which is in my blood . A song, a tune to
play on the violin, a melody vibrating in you even in sleep. You play again and again the same
favorite tune, chiseling and tuning to perfection. It is not simply the instrument violin, it is not
simply the board, curved with holes and strings -not simply rhapsody creating paths
of strings, it is more than that; a bounty of solace, a wooden board with a life, a seamless
reflection of untold sufferings, inexplicable anguish layer after layer corroding your heart.
It is the board which resuscitates your dead spirit, wood and bow up and down playing a
Sorceress trick, rejuvenating your being, your existence, taking you into a different world.


shambles of past
riding me all through the time
I need a solace
melody from chiseled timbre
strings and bows up and down