Till the core , your restlessness it lazily calms,
The sweet scent of the lean , date laden palms,
The petite villages, surrounded by the vast sand dunes,
Crave for the sacred waters in the sizzling noons,
Far off around the well, is a long queue of men,
Hoping the water does not end, their turn comes when,
While the sun is at peak, not a single being in sight,
Streets absolutely deserted uptill the first signs of night,
Inside the small mud coated houses are asleep,
Children whom forcefully inside their mothers keep,
Winds howl as they are ripped and torn,
By the dry branches of a bush or cactus’ thorn,
Snakes and lizards rule this land of the shy,
But hide instantly, on the roars of a jeep passingby,
When the wrath of the sun finally cools down,
Evening arrives, wearing her embellished, glistening crown,
Wild winds turn into a refreshing , poised breeze,
The natives now peer out, with releif and ease,
Around the same well now, is a youthful celebration,
Of adorned , graceful girls, receiving felicitations,
And the women strolling away, with clay pots on their head,
Arms filled with dozens of bangles, white and red,
A single bead or a ring of them , dangling from the nose,
As admiration for them , in ones eyes grows,
Singing the folk love songs, supress the escaping giggles,
Placing the floral chunris on thier face and fiddles,
The cjildren fly kites, with tiny stones they play,
All careless of the lacunas of their lives, blushing and gay,
The men finish work, whistling all the way back home,
Dancing and dwindling in joy, they roam,
The stars draping the immense sky, glimmer in delight,
Crackling fires lit here and there, flicker in the night,
Around the bonfires the silken peacocks dance,
Charms of this jibliant night they lavishly enhance,
During the day this desolate desert slumbers peacefully,
And the nights wide awake enduring this merry melancholy,
This amalgam of love and rage, a blend so artistic,
The unusual moods of it make the magnificent desert so mystic.