This was my first published article. It was published in the Platform Magazine in November 2006. Platform was an art/fashion magazine which featured a segment for writings by individuals, where my poetry was accepted and published. Though I’ve been blogging since 2004, seeing your article in print is a beautiful feeling. This poetry was written on a trip to Manali in Fall 2006 with a group of friends. As we reached the hotel after a 15 hour drive, everyone went to take a nap, while I took a walk around the garden area of the resort and sat beside the rushing river Beas at a beautiful nook. That foggy evening was perfect setting for me to write this in one go, probably in an hour. Later my friends named this nook – Writers Point.
A look into the tulip leaves
And the simplicity in this world is assured
A glance over the emerging clouds
And my faith is still not deterred in beatific beauty
As I see the purple and green mountains
I vouch for the composure of the mind
And when I walk past the women carrying apples
Their smiles remind me of the childhood innocence
The smell of the burnt dung
Makes me a patriot
The whiff of Himalayan air
Cleanses my soul
The smell of morning dew
Reasons my being
And the smell of the tea gardens
Intoxicates my mind like any other spirit
When I hear the bubbles in the river
I’m reminded of the childhood friends and frolic
On hearing the gush of the water in the Beas
I remind myself of the rains I’ve experienced in solace
As I hear the sound of bells of the evening chants at the roadside temple
I’m reminded of the laughter of the aged in the park during early mornings
The sound of chirping occupies my mind
And the cacophony of the sublime chimes is hit
To taste heaven in its most vulnerable best
One should pluck an apple from the Himalayan orchards
The most succulent litchi en route
Should be considered most divine
As the tea from the roadside enters my mouth on a rainy day
The valley rose to assure that it’s the best they could offer
And then I tasted a million droplets
For once, my life seemed worth a million dimes
I feel the raindrops tip-toeing on my face
And I recollect the caresses I’ve left behind
I can feel the chaste air in my lungs
