TWINED AND INTERTWINED

In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.
—John Muir

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Twined and intertwined
broken and branched
Complex and divine
Pure as a bliss
a walk through those trails in time

The serenity’s which encapsulates you
the deafening silence which rejuvenates you
with each turn twist and bump reveals
that beauty
so sublime

Those streams and the creeks
which runs through it
those veins
which infuse love and beauty in it.
The trees which line up the mountains
curves and accentuates your beauty
So divine

It’s complicated
surreal and yet so simple
It hides the beauty
in its plain sight

A truth untold
thorough those gossamer shrubs
In the thinnest of its web
The trail I took,
To find the truth
hidden deep inside.

Picture credit: Megha Sood

ON THE BANKS OF TEESTA

On a January winter morning,

The gossamer mist engulfs me.

It carries me away in the cold air,

Above the tiny ever-growing city buildings

And gently lowers me on the banks of Teesta, the mysterious green river.

I see footsteps on the white sands,

Once they were mine,

It’s been a long time since I walked on them.

The kids blow balloons and frolic around,

The silvery water gushes past the huge boulders,

My mother warns me not to go into the water,

I am a good boy and I listen to her.

I have always been cautious of the river,

Buses have fallen into it, people washed away never to be found-

Adrenaline pumped teenagers have been drowned by its strong currents

But I never blame Teesta.

We have to respect the power of nature.

I recollect how Teesta’s beauty captivated me,

The serpentine contour, the murky green surface,

The forested hills rising on either side of it,

Rocky hills, Strong hills, Old hills.

We jump from rock to rock carefully balancing ourselves,

My curly haired-crush moves deftly on the rocks.

I am rather tentative and worried that I will fall.

I am so in love with her.

We don’t have smart phones to take selfies,

We don’t need one as we are lost in nature.

I can smell the chicken-masala wafting through the air,

My feet can’t stop tapping to the rhythm of the song,

All of us hold hands together and we dance in unison,

Our faces, look happy, all smiles, at least for a day,

A day worth the wait,

Picnicking on the banks of Teesta.

The mist disperses as the sun comes out,

I am brought back to the present.

I retain the smiles and the joy,

The times have changed, and picnics are no more regular.

People throng the malls more than the serene riverside.

I stand on the bridge and look down at the green waters,

They flow where they have to as life goes on.