I walked past and I heard
you play the sitar, Kadambari;
and I waited at the side in the streets
as I heard the soothing tunes and the notes
and the playfulness and the pleas and eloquence
and the pain and the joys and the ecstasy
O I heard the coming to of each note and raga
and I heard each improvisation
and I stood at the gate, hidden behind the green vines
not allowed in, always the outsider
always left outside, marked by clear boundaries;
but I heard each turn and each leap and fall
and I saw you in all your beauty, Kadambari
I saw you in my mind as I stood outside
and I heard each note
as you offered each note to Kama, the Love God
Kama with his bow and arrow of flowers;
and the jasmine plants around me bloomed
and the trees in the street and the vines over the wall
they all bloomed, as you played, O Kadambari –
and so did my being, so did my being open like the sunflower
so it did, as you, O Kadambari,
as you had your fingers on your sitar
as you made music
