IT IS RAIN AGAIN

It is rain again

Beautiful Bountiful

Rain

Again again

Easing stress strain

Drenched as I stand

On Bengarulu Main

Pouring incessantly

water seeping streaking

down arms pits

on to

my fleshy corridors

and

long skinny legs .

The cool blizzard

caressing the tresses

swirling twirling

tossing in

Intoxicated

I Sway

my body hips

to

the rhythm of

curled landscapes

mingle into

divine dream of

cooing with open

arms

for a dewdrop

kiss

it is rain again

beautiful bountiful

rain

Again again

Easing stress pain.

 

 

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WALKING TOURS

Travelling has fascinated me from childhood..

My father imbued in me the habit of going on Morning walks with him .He would wake me up at 5.30am dress me up to accompany him to walk a mile or two to the green pastures on the hill side of the city . Srinagar city encircled by mighty snow capped mountains luxuriant with greens . One is simply enthralled and mesmerized by its natural beauty.

Being early riser my father would make fire in the kangiri – the traditional fire pot made of earthen bowl covered around with wicker .This is mobile heater for residents in Kashmir during winter to keep them warm.

He would bake two eggs for me in the fire of kangiri. I would Peel off the eggs and eat them before embarking on a walking tour.

Srinagar

Srinagar city  with Dal Lake in background

The October morning was just neither cold nor warm but fascinating enough to tempt us for a long walk..

A starry sky without a speck of cloud. The chirping of birds on the tree bough was soothing to the ears.and some of these would flutter over our heads just to say “hello”.

This was a daily morning phenomenon.

I dressed up in thick cotton pajama and put on ‘pheron’ a loose Kashmiri gown made from woolen cloth.

My father, a six footer of heavy build with dusky complexion, dressed up in Tweed long coat buttoned up to his neck, carrying a staff in his right hand beckoned me to follow him . He walked fast with his outstretched strides .It was very difficult for a tiny figure like me to keep pace with his long steps.

But then he would wait intermittently , hold my hand for a comfortable walk.

The walk was long on the tarred avenue with tall poplar trees on either side, presenting a panoramic view.

The chirpy morning was peaceful and I enjoyed loitering here and there without the noise and honking of the vehicles .

Occasionally a Tonga or a car would speed by and the occupants would wave while zipping across the lonely road.

After trudging for a long walk, we halted by the side of a gurgling stream namely DOODH GANGA every day to enjoy the blissful spectacle of day breaking into dawn.

After crossing the Doodah Ganga we descended the big slope into a plain, a huge ground called Chand Mari. Indian Military forces  had occupied Chand Mari as point of security in the city boundaries.

My father went to one of the camps and called ‘‘Hey

Bonwer Singhji Good morning”

“Good morning Sirji” Bonwer singh came out of the camp “how are you my boy “ He continued.

“Very well “ I replied in a low tone

Bonwar singh, a burly Sardarji was Major and in charge of the Security of Chand Mari Military Force. My father struck friendship with him and inadvertently stopped for a cup of tea and a normal gossip .

“ Sirji you had promised that your son will sing a song . I understand he is good singer “ Bonwar Singh asked .

“ yes why not ,my son sings well.” replied my father

“Biju go ahead sing something” ordered my father.

 I sang ‘khoya khoya chand khulla asman ‘ a Bollywood   song .

 ‘wah wah Biju you sing beautiful. There is modulation in your voice and I am sure you will be a good singer “ Bonwar singh said .

I felt myself at the top of the world.

For a week or so we could not come to see Bonwar Singh

And finally one day we did halt outside the Camp in Chand Mari .

“Tussi Kethay ho Singh Sahib “ shouted my father

“Kaun Hai “ A voice enquired .

“Is Bonwar Singhnji there” my father asked politely.

    A tall Sikh Officer came out while tying up his turban.

“ Hello sirji Bonwar Singh ji is transferrd to Ladakh

and now I , Amitabh singh is new Commander here. “

“Oh I see , glad to meet you .Bonwar singh was a bosom friend just stopped to say hello” my father replied shaking hands with the officer.

“do come sir. I am your new friend .what is your name pl.”

“KNK. Principal in a school ,see you officer sometimes later” my father replied ,waving his hand as we moved onwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE RAINS

Aah comes the rain

Torrential rains

Dark clouds growl

The fierce wind howl

Splashing water on to

the

Window panes

Cooling off spitting

fire

From the heart

And mind.

Aah comes the rain

Gushing ferociously

through the lane

rinsing off the paths

nooks and corners

and setting the green

verdure to the

glistening grass.

Making the prospectus

Inviting embracing

To love

Aah comes the rain

Slithering down the

Body and bosom

The water spatters

On the fleshy contours

Raindrops scatter

Like pretty flowers

Soothing the scorching

sores to blissful

ecstasy.

 

LOVE WE MUST

Love we must

And must we love

It doesn’t matter

Where we love

Oh my  pretty dove

Among the bushes

Deep down in the

Woods .

Stealithily in the nook of alleys

Or in the sprawling valleys

But love we must

And must we love

It does not matter

Where we live

On the green verdure

Enticing coquettish

pleasure

It doesnot matter

Where we make love

Along the sides of gurgling

brook

clinging to the branches

of rustling trees

enjoying a sensuous breeze

to tingle our passions

and delve deep in

Fathoms of eternity

Love we must

And must we love

 

 

Monsoon showers

With sweltering heat

around every street

We fume fret and strut

with trickling perispiration

down our cheeks.

Sweating sweating

restlessly beyond the

marrow of our bones.

 

In mad rush we

drive down to nearby

Hill station

scale the mountain table top

to

Seek solace and solitude

 

In the lap of the woods

Cool and green

in silvery sheen

we speed across

The dark clouds

engulfing

the whole prospectus

 

With lightening and thunder

To our great wonder

Clouds burst into deluge

Cascades

Of water blinding our

eyes and face

Drenching us to the

barest skin

We struggle scramble

helter skelter

to reach for a safe shelter.

 

Scores of men women

Children dancing in the rains

Like beautiful swans

Enjoying

the monsoon shower

On the mountain table tower

 

It pours pours pours

relentlessly unmindful

of the joys bringing

to the

parched millions

 

cooling and comforting

us to

our immense joys.

 

 

 

 

LOVE IS SO NEAR

Love is so far

When you are

Away

Drifting in wilderness of

The pine trees and pastures

Of the mountains

I long for your

Wide dreamy eyes

Your mischevious summer

Smile

Come now my sweet

Cindrella to ignite me to

Love you fiercely

For ever

 Love is so near

When you are with me

Dear.

Whispering the spring notes

And I find a momentous

Time to recyline

in the comfort of your lap

as you tickle touch

my face ,tresses

Soothing me to a

Sensuous comfort

 

Love is so far

When you are

Away

Love is so near

When you are with me

Dear.

 

JUST LOVE ME

Just love me just love

      me

O Binorii O Binorii

   My Dear

Without shame or fear

 like the birds do

Up above the rustling

branches in view of

Sun and sunshine

 

The swaying of trees

will teach you how to

sway to the rhythm

of the bountiful

amazing green pastures.

 

The rustle of leaves

Will teach you how

To wriggle your hips

And make your body

Malleable to dance

your way to

mingle with the soul

       of Love .

 just love me just love

     me

O Binorii O Binorii

    My dear

Without shame or fear