White cheeked Bulbul

Aware of your presence

Cocks his proud plume,

Hops close, checks

Expectant, cheeky

Cute and personal,



Tiny yellow flower

Turns to meet the sun-god

As his glow sweeps across the horizon,

Like a sensor,

Without moving any muscle,



Horses blonde and black

Stand pensive

With secret dubious thoughts

Adorn undulating downs,

Cows nibble new shoots

Graze in green meadows.


The hills lush with pine

In ranges rise

To snow-capped mountain peaks,

Imperturbable roar

Of the river below

Speak of melting streams everywhere.


Clouds nestle here and there

Caught in the bosom

Of mountain valleys,

Meet the blue smoke

Rising from village hamlets below.


The great Raven caws

Plunging his beak in cattle-dung,

The blackbird’s song

As pilgrims throng

To the temple,

Beginning the journey

To the Phallic Ling

Of Amarnath,

The eternal Lord.


Herdsmen flushed

Chase sheep and mule,

All is still, magnificent

Not a leaf stirs

In this canvas

As twilight descends

And the air is rare

With forest fragrance

Embracing you

In single mindfulness

Without thought, calm

In this eternal valley

Of Pehelgam.


Then from the gathering

Cloud cover

It begins to rain

And all is

Obliterated again.