a fog came...
straight from hills...
the same hills that he felt
that same hills where he once saw God...
standing before him
once
one foggy morn...
at a point...
from where only
the two options had then
been kept....
a steep down deep...
and a climb...
he had then
chosen the deep...
camikazie knot tied
he himself dropped...
into the deep...
knowing death
was about to plant
Her sweetest kiss
on his dry dry lips...
She did...
then ...
she gave her everything...
her moist smell...
her green leaves
dripping mist...
her
every bit of
Forest
where wild flowers bloomed...
after that...
that particular death
it took eight
roughly eight months
to climb back...
and
from that deep
he happily rose up...
bidding adieu to her
and loving her very much...
at the hills...
he met God again
while climbing...
whispering him Love...
in the smell of monasteries...
in saffron...
in posts long
that swung in the breeze...
in sombre gongs...
in copper heavy bells...
in happy go lucky life...
in children going to school walking all the way singing...
in jeeps manoeuvring good
in holding on rocks that stood
Like sages so lovely...
in incense burning
Front of statue...
in smell of lager
Filling at evenings...
And
In finding Ajoy...
A happy happy lad
with his guitar...
In finding Wanshai ...
In finding Paia...
'God...
A fog in June?
Here?
You must be my umbrella man !'
he thought smiling
And a picture postcard
Dropped...
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