LET THE MUSIC PLAY.
Chinars swaying in their majestic way,
Pause to look at the moss covered footprints
On the paths now un trodden ,pondering
why the palmate leaves no longer flutter
with the chirpy , multilingual breeze
wafting through them .
Their barks yearn for
the tender touches of newly wed couples
posing for clicks memorable.
While the Zabarwan gazes achingly
at the deserted stretch of tulips
resembling the trousseau abandoned by a bride.
And the mellifluous ‘ bhumbro’
trapped in lumped throats
Struggles to float from rooftops and rise to a crescendo.
Encouraging the lonely shikaras, snuffling in the shadow
to be rowed in the crystal clear water of Dal lake
With fun and frolic riding its chest
While agile fingers glide through chilled waters
causing ripples and soothing nerves.
Along with the aroma of Kahwa that fills the crisp misty air.
Which the hidden kangris under the pashminas
promise to warm .
Vestige of once festooned house boats,
Join in the show, beckoning towards its warm abode.
Rosy cheeks with promising smiles,
Enveloped in embellished Pherans and Kasaba
on flower laden shikaraas ,
Wait to cross your paths offering their exotic blooms ,
midway of the lake.
The pristine terrain pledges a paradise
Not to be lost behind the gossamer sheets of photo frames
The cascading , singing streams promise
to drench listless soul with the fragrance of saffron,
ripe apples, while, dangle to please every taste buds.
And all this time the high , smoking mountains
Envisions and smile with certainty ,
its confidence hard to crumble.
Cradling embryonic love stories,
with ambiguous fate
In the shadow of twilight,
Wait for the music to be played.