Rhododendrons

 

Here, at the gardens of hillside bloom,

Spring has burst into a thousand hues.

And rhododendrons of every shade

Shower the paths, whichever you choose

 

But I walk straight to the ruddiest ones

Carmine, Crimson, Ferrari red

I have swum in time, I am not here

I am back in time somewhere else instead

 

In the Himadri hills, long time back

The rhodos bloom in alpine green,

We both hunt for the reddest ones

But they are nowhere to be seen

 

The white brings peace, the pink some hope

But where are the reds, we both complain

But you being you, are full of hope

No angst there is, nor there’s disdain

 

We scoured the day, we gouged the hills

But the reds were elusive all the while,

Until you stopped on the way, knowing well

The chase that day was just futile

 

‘Don’t you see, they won’t reveal

Until you bleed your heart in red,

Its all the same, the white rhodos

Showing themselves once you have bled.’

 

I laughed that day, how silly it was

For blooms to dip in vampire smile,

But the truth was not a single tree

Blushed in red, mile after mile

 

And yet, today, instinctively

I already knew of the rhodos red,

For something deep whispered soft

Of a thousand cuts, to be lost and bled

 

And every drop of sacrifice

Has daubed these hills with a crimson ask,

The whites and pinks have warred and died –

In the empty sun, the reds now bask

 

I look once more at the carmine blooms

Carefree, clot-less, smiling sun

Echoing tales, left long behind

With nothing to win, nowhere to run

 

I check myself, there are no cuts

Not at least in the outer skin,

Though deep inside I am battered and bled

All in the name of a pyrrhic win

 

While you, do you still roam and run

In the hills of Chail, the forests of pine?

Red rhodos on your path as well

AS mortals bleed to turn divine….

16^th April, 2025