The boy from the weaver’s land

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‘the boy from the weavers land ‘

he was born in the land of ..weavers.
those of his uncles and grandfathers created drapes …
drapes for the poor ..drapes for the rich ..
drapes with the cotton  .,drapes with the silk ..
Drapes with the gold and silver …with the peacock and parrots ..
with the elephants and yhe horses in procession …
the jungles weaved together with the love and patience with years of handwork …
he is the patience ..he is the  love ..the boy …

Yes is is not a weaver indeed …he had it in his genes …
his ancestors saw the kings marraiges …the Maratha ceremonies filled wth silks ..emeralds ..rubies and the gold.
the ladies in the courts draped themselves in those silvers and the silk while the wardrobes of the princess filled with the  finest of drapes in golds and alas the  newly married groom in her greens and reds …pinks ad indigoes .. the queen to be.
he is from the land of those weavers …

he is indeed strong .. still soft spoken ..
he knows to connect to the people around ..still feels isolated …
he wants to go walking the paths which connect contries ..he is a painter who has a girl of his dreams …
his mind filled with the clear skies …with no boundaries around.
he who knows to gather threads and weave his dreams with colours …
he who draws her in his lines softhearted …
he is not a weaver himself .. yet he has a heart of a weaver.
 ……bhavnasonawane

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