Queen of the Night

 

Alas -

The white blossom

I had considered

The sacred Brahma Kamal

Turned out to be something else –

Not a Himalayan wonder

But a Mesoamerican plant

 

Now it makes sense –

The rubbery leaves like cactus

The resilience to grow

Whereas the treasure I seek –

Does it grow out of grace

Wherever glacial purity

Inspires a wizened land?

 

Its blossom though

Is a wonder too – pure white

Peeping behind emerald leaves

And just as rare –

A visitor of a single night

Miss-me-and-I-have-gone

Far beyond human eyes

 

Perhaps, it is this rarity

That turns Queen to God

Asking its subjects

To be worthy of something more;

But no, they are not the same

And I dismayed

Have lost a piece of Himalayan dream

 

Where from the high altitudes

The white lotus

Comes to me, carrying

Memories of the mountains

Where Brahma-loka meets Kailash

In blinding white

Faraway from this earth of red

 

But as I gaze, it whispers with the breeze

It’s a blessing, don’t you see?

For you need to pick your dreams anew

Beyond the seven seas

For if the mountains came to you

Your traveller’s trail would die

But this is not where, you are to say Goodbye

 

The white bloom dies with grace

But in its parting words

It breathes life to hung-up boots;

Somewhere without a single step

A distant pilgrimage begins

In that shrine, a small shrub blooms

With a lotus crafted out of time…

25th Jan'2026