Kaas
Kaas was beautiful But it was a compromise. I had yearned for the Himalaya - Govindghat and Ghangharia The ‘real’ Valley of flowers; Instead, plans cancelled, you brought me To Satara: Kaas A plateau of flowers ‘Poor man’s Valley,’ I grumbled While you meandered Through a melange Of pink and yellow: Barleria, Smithia, orchids And many more: Monsoon’s melancholy Surprising in colours After a long sulky walk, You urge: ‘Can you restart from Zero?’ The fault sometimes, you explained Was the start, not the count itself. ‘If you keep thinking of Himadri, The Sahyadri will pass by unnoticed – Here, even Frank Smythe would be mesmerised…’ The grey clouds were the wrapper The colours were boxed inside And I was hesitant To open the gift of melancholy; The beautiful tapestry A test of monsoon clouds, I had failed both as painter And as subject Years later, not digital But your postcard ...
