The Mists of Mirik

Enchanted lake of quiet delight

Water still as glass the soft secretive

Sound of the paddle-boats dulled

In the blue-clad mists of winter’s approach.

With the faintest whisper Summer

Departs leaving Autumn as her surrogate

And the cool mists creep up the foothills

Making their slow way to the Himalaya

Wrapped in shawls the rich brown women

Laugh, the sound falling like leaves,

Swallowed by the waters of the lake

Reflections like shattered glass

Horses mill and turn, led to the gallop

By the Nepali Indian boys bravado

The drumming hooves echoing over water

Racing the lake to reach her head

Silently the majestic conifers tower

Into the sky and lie across the water

Mirrored green and dreaming boughs

Cry into the still waters

A swirl of activity, a sudden swish,

The glassy surface broken by a myriad fish

Fed for luck and good fortune by those

Hurrying to market

On a tree-decked island sacred red

Glimpsed through the veil of trees

A woman in a bright bird-like sari

Guards the Deity enshrined

Girls call and giggle, laughing

As the horses and the boys ride

Ever faster around the sacred lake

Flirting in the face of custom

Peace and harmony precede winter

Mirik in all her many moods

Mist lying thick, caressing the water

In my dreams I see her still.

Kanchenjunga – mountain of the Himalaya

Serene and silent she holds her sway over the people at her feet

Calm, cold and cruel her icy grip exacts a fearsome price

Of those who uncaring step upon her highest peak

Not for nought did the ancient kings declare her sanctity

Guarding her secrets to preserve the magician’s spell

See her once and she will your heart enthral

Towering above subservient clouds she gazes out

Over what was once a tiny and exquisite principality

Now part of India’s rich domain, taking a fragile stand

On the windswept mountains of the Land of snows

Held captive by China’s iron hand.

Third highest peak in this world, but foremost in beauty,

The only Dakini amongst the towering Himalaya

Stay your stride and retreat, respect her solitude

Let no man’s feet tread upon her virgin summit’s snows

Blushing tender rose at Dawn’s first light

Tread the path unbidden and the Yetis will pursue

Sent out by the mountain queen to exact revenge

Turn back and let her majesty and allure haunt

Your daytime and the night with yearning snow clad

Whispers running on silent feet in your mind

Memory locked forever in a love affair with

Nature’s glory and Kanchenjunga’s might.

Facts behind the poetry - a mystic story

The Lepcha community of Sikkim worships the peak as their God. Every year in the third moon month they celebrate the festival of adoration. In front of their houses they make a replica of the mountain by using nine stone pieces and idolise it. Mask dance is a ritual in this festival. They believe that the blessings of the Himalaya that is the mountain Kong –Lo –Chu can only keep them healthy and wealthy.

The Sikkimese people have maintained the sanctity of their belief all through out the passage of time. The king of Sikkim while permitting any expedition in the past has always imposed a condition that the summiteers must not step the top. The days of the Kings are no more. Being a part of democratic India, there is Sikkim government now a day. However the expeditionary with a holy spirit in their mind have always religiously respected the ‘verdict of the king’. Till date a total of195 summiteers have resorted down leaving 6 feet of height to the top that is about 20 feet in length as a gratitude to the belief of the surrounding community whose permission and whole-hearted support can only run an expedition in line.

Tibet does not form any boundary of Kanchenjunga but it is only 15 Kilometers apart. In Tibetan language the peak is named as “Kang – Chen – Dzo -Nga”. It means “Five treasuries of the great snow”. The most popular and the modern name “Kanchenjunga” has been derived from this Tibetan pronunciation.

Surya Crimson-Decked

Surya decked in red and gold sinks languidly into the Gangas’s embrace

And covers her in jewelled hues of opulence

An all too brief flash of fire, crimson staves off indigo Night

Downstream flow a million hopeful souls

Waiting for Nirvana

Two small boys row upstream in perfect silence

No need for voices in the red-gold afterglow

The taller boy dips his oars silently feathering

The water, gold dripping from the wooden shaft

Deaf and mute he travels in silence

With rubies, garnets and gold Surya pays homage

To the Ganga, showering her with his adoration

Gently flows the mighty river, caressing

All she touches, her touch soft molten gold

Now Surya lies enthralled

Passion spent, the glittering Sun God’s strength

Ebbs with the River’s delight; as she slips away

Indigo night steals upstream, Surya vanquished

Plunges beneath the tranquil waters and

Dies another death, another day

The Indian Boy's Birthday

Two days married in the Land Of His Blood

Denied by his family, misunderstood

Standing alone with a brand new bride

How much I missed being there

How much I cried.

Destiny decrees our paths and our lives

But sadness still crawls in and clutches

With cold fingers around the heart

And the tears flow unheeded

At being apart.

But a few short hours ago it eased

The good times came back

And the strength that he gave me

Through all the times of adversity

Now I can thank Destiny.

I drive the car, see eagles in flight

Say the prayer that he taught me

Whisper Om Mani Peme Hung

Now he's gone is the time

They get done.

The friends I have made

The strength they impart

Being there and holding the space

Respecting and easing the pain

I thank them from my heart.

Today on his new day, 30 at last

Starting a new life so far away

Memories come crowding the mind

There are things he will smile at

Now lost in the past.

So thanks for the love and thanks for the time

Two years went too quickly

Who could have known

The heartache, the laughter

Would leave one so alone.

Yes, the smile is now bittersweet

But now no longer the tears

The joy freely given, lasting for years

A gift beyond price

In this lifetime and and all others

We are destined to meet.