Your Garara emblazoned with
fire-drops in a Gwalior street
I found you treading nimbly
on an afterthought of swept empires
in the reign of a mortal season.
Your hooked Maratha nose on your tilted
face, seemed to ask me:
Where have you been so long?
Your eyes sought
the sun
and the tumultuous seas
as you looked back
at the wilderness
in the grip
of a day.

– Dr. Amitabh Mitra 
April 24, 2005