Choosing his nook which was a paradise in the hills of Nilgiris,
He played to the notes of violin.
With night melting into deep silence
And music spreading as far as the darkness.
He played looking at the music sheet
Under the stars shining, piercing bright.
The sheet frolicked merrily on the cardamom hills, turning the silence into heavenly splendour.
The music sheet was all about her or was it “Her” imprinted on a plain paper
Whose notes when he played,
Every bit turned spectacular.
Encompassing him with the memories of “The Love” they made in solitude
Which never let fade the magnitude.
He played his violin…in solitude.