Colours sketched caves on the north face,
I can hardly see the searing light.
Melting ice-steps inside,
Exhausted Gary struggling for breath,
I held his hand firmly.
Still, I can draw the physiology of this altitude.
He pointed at the ice, covering another story.
I saw through the ice-chimney alone,
Holding the Japanese rope,
Followed the footsteps.
I believed in the afternoon,
Will return the way to write my name in notebooks.
A Treasured sari
At her bridal evening,
She wears that treasured sari
Which was gifted along with a golden lotus and a sandal scent flower.
Layers of saffron folded, pallor glaciers flora fixed,
Snow scorched faces hidden in silver mirrors,
Mixed colours busy in listening the grasslands,
Coniferous designs, gibbous pearls architected,
Trigonometric calculations coiled around momo soft spices,
Shades of seasons enveloped, she walks towards the procession.
Sonata of tamur and teesta,
Enthralls the embroidered pebbles.
Sunrise with its usual lazy orographic eyelids,
Shades the pale sky where,
Amuse at their half forgotten memories,
Etched in the expeditions.