Ascending the lakeside during evening's hush,A solitary figure emerges, a buffalo in a solitary amble.No companions in sight, just the company of a lone dog,I pass by, the scenes unfolding in nature's silent drama.Completing my circuit, I retrace my steps,Encountering the buffalo again, now seated in solitude.The dog remains, a loyal witness to the unfolding scene,The buffalo, now frothing, wears a visage of stoic sorrow.Its countenance stern, its solitude palpable,Standing there, helpless against nature's course.Reaching the gate, I alert the indifferent security,"Let the owners return, if they care," their apathy unveiled.With worry nestled within, I return homeward,Realizing the limits of intervention in nature's realm.A dilemma unfolds, a question that echoes,"What's the essence, Venkatesa?"
-SV Prabhath
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