ഒരു രാഗം

photo :mk

Mist

The misty crest of Munnar melting apart

in to clouds, sky and ocean

It becomes whiter and whiter resembling

the ever-depressing sense of separation

and gets toned down in showers

In the township, the mist

is both spiritual relief

and refreshing for the tourists

Among the tall eucalyptus soldiers

who are yet to wake up from dreams,

the clusters of mist become puzzles

The epic expanse of the mist

escorts the well disciplined

regiment of tea plants parading on the slopes

The eucalyptus trees are like sentries

in the sacred woods of eternal love

The echo-point in the woods

keep on reverberating the words,

“I love you”

The wings of swans vanish

bidding adios

The nuptials of affections

dig tunnels into the past

where carcasses

of forbidden love lie scattered

The packets of “tata tea”,

the invisible embraces of Kannan Devan hills

stretching out from the green

slopes of Munnar

The abstractness of memories

vomited by pain and

the glistening wilds which

wipe away the fearsome grief

Now there is only mist,

the language, the ritual,

the religion and the god