'Forests, trees, rocks and hills give me joy that my mind yearns for. br Each tree in the village speaks to me, it tells me, pure! complete!' br ~Beethoven br br My mind too, escapes in late spring br to the branches of mango and palash trees br and relaxes in contentment for a couple of hours br in the young green and middle-aged reds of fields, br after all, all men are debtors to the earth. br br The afternoon, lost in a daydream br stares mutely in the distance, br it's in the past with no effort at all, br my distracted thoughts spin in the wind br and lose themselves in the call of doves br across deserted village rice-fields. br br The evening, blushing with colours, br signs itself out on an exhilarating note, br in the deep tune of a song.