She, a wayfarer and friend, told him
With wonderment in her eyes
That he was an amazing persona
A perfect man ever seen or known to her…
In every sphere where mind & soul rise
Be it mundane wisdom and knowledge
Literature, sports or even fine arts –
He’s professionally superb yet so humane.
That he is one whom fate has crowned
With knowledge, wisdom and grace
A rare blend of integrity and brilliance
Yet so simple, gentle and down to earth
So deeply humane, so calm and so kind
No arrogance in all things that he does
No pride reflected in his measured word.
With humility, he merely smiled
As though her praise had missed its way
Like sunshine falling silently on the sea…
“For what you see is but clay
That life and time have shaped unwittingly!
One looks at the shore with quiet waters gleam
But hardly ever the storms raged upon the tide;
One stares at the bountiful golden harvest
But seldom seeds that broke and bled inside.”
After a brief pause, he continued
That every discernible fruition or strength
Was carved by nights, none would visualize
That for every calm that lights the path he trod
Shattered hopes & tears the heart once shed
The life wrote its saga in not so gentle lines
But in the dialect sorrow often speaks
Past loss & fall; past silent & dark marks.
God was kind through trials & tribulations
That He weaved a quiet art within soul
To gather light where shadows once ruled,
Keep acerbity and bitterness away from heart
So in him, if some grace is visible on date
It was not born from any ease or fame
But from a myriad wounds and storms
He survived but the world won’t know
How well a quiet faith he forever pursued.
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