Monday, June 28, 2010

In a way that is distinct
from the draped up blend of colours
the one which stands apart
from the whole union of colours
Black the real, real black
to hold upon a thin frame of lens
to showcase how low the essence
of coal-black
from roads to the valley
in a mask of Kashmir
worth not to write further
and in page numbers
water runs impure
bottled again.
Pure forms you find
in origins of Himalaya
where aroma of herbs natural
earth carry forward
to heal wounds many
In Manasarovar
not very far from the city of snow hills
water flows pure
Water of city for long you hold
cascaded in one bottled page
sealed and that water has forgotten
the alphabets of pure distinct forms….

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