At Kanchenjunga Falls
The frigid waters of the Falls East of Pelling Made me elated. But you remained morose – “To reach a pilgrimage When we had not bled enough We remained Undeserving pilgrims.” The glacial melt That came from the heights of Kanchenjunga Was the God itself – For those who couldn’t ascend To the dizzy heights The meltwater in the falls Was the closest to redemption It is only now That I realise The burden of that heavy truth – Almost a font of freshness Drenching you ahead of time When it was not yet season For the monsoon clouds To roll in summer’s rescue Almost a font of love Healing all of you When the wounds Were not even formed, Undeserving pilgrims, as you said Reaching the sanctuary of salvation Yet feeling unworthy In a journey that was never made Perhaps, after all these years We have earned our rights To touch and feel The meltwaters made in Heaven We have ...
