"Kadal kannan povam?"

I smile,

And you hold my hands, 

Hold. 

Touch. 

I hear people say, the lines found in your hands decide your destiny,

Age-old myth? 

A folktale or a legend? 

Hands. Lines. Destiny. 

I wonder,

When we hold hands, does destiny also coincide?

The lines on my hands, met yours 

A boat shape, 

All the way from the tip of my palm, an uneven line crossed yours

Some missed, some dispersed,

Do our hands, these lines really hold our future?

Are we to move parallel

Or to intersect ever? 

With endless lines

Like waves in an ocean

Or stars in the sky,

Do we ever meet? 

Of flickering hope and unsaid words, 

What a game of destiny 

As the sun began to rise,

Holding hands,

I look up and ask,

"Kadal kannan povam?"