Above the curves winding up
Where the large trees stop growing
The golden yellow leaves leftunruffled by the wind.
Mist descends while tea is boiling.
Fried, roasted; smells the air
Tangy sauce on olives from oven.
Songs, noise unlimited.
He watched it all
With eyes never met by other eyes.
Nobody saw him ever.
Amidst the dance and music
Men and women did not hearNight’s faint cry for life.
The mud was patted back to sleep
He saw it with his green eyes
And hid in his grey coat
Wearing a mask of silence.
Nobody saw him ever.
Woods, river, fragrant white flowers
The ghats snoredwith the streams, their stories
Washed, the wrong of the knife drowned
Now corrected.
Memories may live or not.
Up like a rod, agreeing,
A grey fur tail moved away.
Mist thickened; wild murmurs not lost
Embers tried to sleep
Smoking, the night waited for the dawn.
A quick dash; into the darknessOf the undergrowth.
Morning wore golden dew drops
On the blades of grass
That hides the night’s secrets
And marks made by muddy paws.
A jeep rumbling uphill
A red light on top
Warming the lazy courtyard
He closed his eyes tight.
He had seen nothing
Nobody saw him ever.
Quiet remain the mountains
Dead, the valleys below
More or less the world is the same.
Stains, marks on the grass
Licked up, erased and dried.
The mystic cat was gone
Leaving short harsh purr,
Covering unfound answers
The buried recent, as always.
inspired by http://www.walkthroughindia.com/…/indias-mysterious…/
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