He sat beneath a Banyan tree; absolutely mum,
Closing his eyes to this grim reality, his penance is done.
Up on his feet, he begins his lonely walk home,
It’s been 40 years; this landscape to him is rather unknown.
Every house is clean but every road foul,
No sound of laughter but on every face a frown.
Birds don’t tweet but every pocket rings,
Mouths never close but none of them sings.
Mirrors are chosen – over and above advice,
Nothing is valuable but everything has a price.
Inviting temples but there’s no one inside praying,
Everyone listens but with only the intention of saying.
He decides to turn back, there’s nothing here he needs,
Too much effort is required here in order to buy peace.
Back under the Banyan tree he again sits down,
He’s happy to have brought nothing back except for a frown.