Where are you taking me, oh Lord of the universe?

This vermillion coloured sky of twilight; clouds like the ice-covered peaks of the Himalayas,

Through this narrow bucolic road covered by the cool shades of dense rows of trees,

Sitting on the lonesome quay beneath this primitive Bakul tree,

Through green fields covered with the yellowish coating of mustard flowers,

These tin shed houses as isolated as islands,

Walking through the pallid yards of rural homesteads,

Through these bamboo thickets on the bank of the Padma,

Dancing at the ostentatious gathering of the Baul-akhra,

Overwhelming me by the rythmicity of Sufi poetry,

Where are you taking me, oh Lord of the universe?

I do not know.

I don't want to either.

I only know this much

That my heart, mind and soul are delivered unto You.

My heart is only a hollow wooden instrument.

It only becomes a Veena by Your unblemished touch

And wherever you shall carry the Veena of my heart,

I will follow, fascinatedly.

The writer is a twelfth grader at Notre Dame College, Dhaka