An ode to my inspiration

June 25, 2012
He called and my eyes cried! 
Miles afar he lives, teaches and works
He sows words with intentions divine
And plants ideas unashamedly pure
Urges one and all with his stoic might
To get up and follow their hearts;
He called and my eyes cried!
Took me minutes long to calm my nerves
As I held the mobile tight until my palm sweat
Pressed it hard against my ears to hear him close
I tried in vain to quench the quiver in my voice
While he soothingly spoke at the other end;
He called and my eyes cried
Words of praise I heard in my ears
And each syllable of advice I hung to raptly
While I made attempts to behave mannerly
Then a casual-sounding query sapped my nerves
For that was proof he understood my words;
He called and my eyes cried!
I had yearned to speak to him, to meet him once
The innumerable times I devoured his works
And when I send across my first book to him
I prayed he finds time to take a look
I was sure he would write to me
He called.
And my eyes cried!
Nisha Sanjeev

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