The storyline from,
The tip of the Deccan breast,
The trickle of Adam’s bridge,
The infant’s Jaffna lips suckling
His mother’s milk.
And below,
You find a child curving
Out the contours, the slopes
And curvatures,
Covered by salt diapers,
Evolving day-by-day,
To be a grown up boy
Who will one day,
Wear the Silk Road around him
To be a rightful prince
Who will transcend his heritage
To carve a little place for himself
As the boy who grew up
To tame the lion’s heart
And embrace the cartography
Of sustained serendipity
