The man of my dreams

Clad around in a white cloth,
Clinging on to a clumsy stick,
Walking briskly up and down,
All through the lanes of India,
Through the congested lives of people,
Through their dwellings and struggles,
Travels that old man  of my dreams!
With the shimmer of his bald head,
The reflection of his round glasses,
And the radiance of his long sandals,
Voyages  that hero of mine,
Through the chambers of my heart! 
Not a sign of tumultuous behavior.
With tolerance as wide as firmament,
All moves in tranquility
,All moves acutely,
He enraptured the crowds of India,
He revived the future of India,
That half naked fakir!
The man of my dreams!
My hero!