Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore

Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore Kamala was her name. I saw her name written on her journal She was traveling on a tram, with her sibling along, toward the path leading to the college. I was a back bencher there. From one side, of her face, the smile line is visible And the unbridled hair, touching softly her neck underneath the braid With the book and journal in her lap I missed the designated stoppage where I was supposed to stop. Now, I have a stricter time, allotted for a walk outside That calculation is not quite a musing with my workspace Almost befitting with their leaving time, whence it is time. Often we meet I ponder in silence, regardless if there is any relation or not She is my co-traveler. A face with innocent intelligence Was evident there, fulbright. The young forehead had untied haid rushed to upside The bright eyes had a gaze, unhesitant It comes to my mind, why there is not any crisis, ensuing Saving civilization from, to make this life glorious, charismatic, flying.