Standing on the Edge of My World

Feeling suddenly alone and unsure

Here I stand on the edge of my world

Chaotic at times, always moving just too slow

Fitting things in, moving things round

Always too little time, too many places to go

Things never done, friends never seen

Meet them in the Mall – how have you been?

Now the trip 35000 k’s alone

The stark mountains of Ladakh

Echo in my mind, forbidding grandeur

Sweeping grey moonscape mountains

Stripped down, in a fighter’s stance

They rise in revolt against the elements

Drop into the lakes and plains

Clouds tumble in the frosty air

Ominous, threatening

Etched in mind’s eye after just a glance

Time caught in a wasteland of eternity.

Standing on the edge of my world

Ticket in hand, apprehension

Squeezes the heart with icy fingers

A land of riotous colours and contrast

Threatens to consume my courage

Exuberant nation, a cacophony of sound

A medley of people nearly a billion strong

One of a small minority in my own land

Cross the world and I’m like a grain of sand

How to cope amongst the teeming throng, alone?

From the tip of Africa to India’s plains

The majestic, magical Himalaya sail the skies

Monsoon rains will plummet earthwards

Dying shattered on the earthy ground

I go from the depths of winter’s cold

To Delhi’s steaming streets

Adrift in a city 14.5million strong

The clatter of the train jogs and jostles me along

Lofty Kanjenchunga will smile on me once more

Then the endless rhythm of the track

Soon in the frenetic capital I’ll be back

Another Himalayan Valley on India’s other side

And here I’ll know if the search’s end I’ll find

In the calm and exquisite silence

The sharpened sword might cleave my mind

Is this the Assassin for whom I long?

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.

Packing Yesterday Away

Sealing boxes, closing doors

Life’s secrets put away to store

The muffled thud catches at memory

The crash of the door slams behind

The good times and the bad

Another chapter of life lived and past

Storing all the things that couldn’t last

In the corridors of memory

Decked in cobwebs of Time

Sealed with the sealing wax of used to be.

Like trinket boxes filled with recollections

Time’s compartments overflow

Jewel-encrusted days flown by

Strung on the silver thread of memory

Say thanks for what we had

Joy, laughter and the tears

Suddenly I looked back and found

Time had gone, days turned to years

So here I am, left only with today

I find myself packing yesterday away

Slam the lock, close the door

Memory’s not welcome any more

The years that stretch ahead

At best will still be shorter than

Those which have gone before

Friends who have enriched my days

Brought colour and love to the tapestry

Life’s warp and weft, sadness and joy

The eternal Flickershow; we laugh and cry

And, all too soon, we part and die

On High days and Holy days

I stride through the quiet corridor

Of times gone by now lost in memory

Turn the moments over and recall

What each one meant to me

Precious then and precious still

They tramp the path of long ago

Golden, glistening, kept in their thrall

Rainbow colours hold the mind’s sway

Again I find I‘m packing yesterday away.

Winter's Lament

Winter is wrenching the summer from the trees

Blood red leaves spatter on the ground

Summer’s life-force spent

Brown leaves already fallen, drained of colour

Run ahead of the winter wind

Eager for rebirth

Against the grey, sobbing sky stretch

The skeletal fingers of the branches

Clutching at the scudding clouds

Which fall and tumble over the mountain

Summer committing suicide

Plunging into the abyss

Daylight is devoured by darkness

Cold and threatening, once familiar

Shapes lie in wait

On winter’s fringe, ready to pounce

The devil stalks the winter wind

His whisper in the trees

The swallows swoop and rise

Ready to follow summer’s retreat

This land left behind

Held ransom to the misery of winter

Splinters of rain assault the landscape

Water oozes from the wounds

The sullen sea throws itself shore-wards

Gunmetal grey threatens those

Risking her wrath

The sky, bleached of colour, fights off

Legions of tall and angry clouds

Battle lines drawn in summer’s blood

The storm winds bear accusations

Carried from Antarctica

Bitterness in ice

Hurled at Africa’s southern-most shore

Optimism driven deep underground

By summer’s loss

Clouds writhe and cringe lashed by winter

Pursued until, caught against the cliffs,

They try escape as rain

Waterfalls gushing from the mountain’s side

Plunge hundreds of heady metres

To their death

Summer’s oppressor lords the skies

The ominous clouds hurl lightning bolts

The sun cowed, flees

He’ll not hold sway in this domain yet awhile

Casualties of battle, leaves lie rotting on the ground

Nature’s sacrifice to winter.

Water relentlessly drowns the fields

Snow smothers the distant mountains

Life in hibernation

Waits patiently for the dawn of spring

Brief harbinger of summer’s wealth

Phoenix from winter’s lament rises once again.