In the mid summer heat,
The villagers speak about the long lost boy.
Guessing it’s a joke,not willing to believe
The anxious mother runs to the beach.
The boat takes shape.
As she stares.. her tears flow -she believes her eyes.
The boy has come back from his journeying.
The moment he sets foot, mother embraces him without a doubt.
Father sits at the centre of the house,
as if he couldn’t care less.
The boy is crestfallen at his mother’s side –
The boy sits down, is told to talk,
The whole village ask,
‘Are you married, any children?’
The lost boy has come back
but now he knows no-one.
How many harvests have had been and had gone?
What had happened?
The whole village ask?
The lost boy is silent –
He has questions of his own.
At dusk after the meal
his mother moves closer, she wants him to speak.
The boy stares, the mother asks..
If it’s cold in Europe?
The boy is silent, remembering forgotten things –
the cold of Europe, the seasons of its cities.
His mother is quiet, has ceased talking –
no resentment or doubt ,but only joy.
Night has come, mother is asleep,
father has been snoring for some time.
But the waves swish on the beach.
For they very well know its a joke. About the Long Lost boy,who’s yet to come.