No day passed when she wouldn’t be
In the field, working
Without a care for a morning tea
Tilling and tending and reaping
Her hands moving with mastery.
Of eating and laughing with him, hummed she
Thinking of the pink aurora tapping
On the window for her to see
Rays flickering and soothing
Before they grew harsh quickly.
Dappled sunlight under the tree
Sitting across the patch, silencing
Occasionally her drudgery.
The tree was old, and it was green, holding
The promise of a reverie.
And so at dusk,
She knew not distress but she did know glee
When the sky was painted a blazing sea.
This piece is inspired by a trip to Kausani that I took last year, and dedicated to Mamta didi and her husband. Image is courtesy of unsplash.com