He was a boy of eighteen
And a college goer very keen
Visiting Dehra to his grandmother
Every year in scorching summer.
Deoli was a small station
Thirty miles in calculation
He realised not exactly
Why that train stopped at Deoli.
The lone platform boasted a tea stall
With few stray dogs did only yell
Down the platform a girl came
Selling baskets with no name.
She had a shawl across shoulder
Shiny black hair but feet were bare
It was morning very cold
She had troubled eyes, clothes old.
He got impatient for a glance
To meet her eyes full of romance
She offered him to buy a basket
After hesitation he paid from his pocket.
Plenty of visits subsequently he paid
Not to let the memory of her fade
But nowhere found her at last
The girl who stole his heart.
Copyright © Moloy Bhattacharya
Moloy Bhattacharya is on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/moloy.bhattacharya
Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.