I hear the far off rumbles,
Words half-formed, feelings yet unborn --
What keeps me glued clueless but taut,
Is the unmistakable aroma of your soul.
- Max
Max Babi, my guru, like Tukaram has a weakness - he barely records his prolific output of poetry. Tukaram is immortal because of Santaji Jagnade who collected his works; this is my attempt to get as much of Max's stuff (he sends it on SMS) in one place.
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