Trinkets at the market-square
10-odd money changers,
One lone ATM.
White, brown, yellow,
(haha, correction please)
Intermingle and experience
In a tenuous existence.
Shrines for living gods
And a repertoire of symbols:
Drum bells, jambo, chants
Prayer beads of a turquoise color.
Refrains of a meditative melody
Giving glimpses of sensitive lives
Viewed from other quarters.
- sushmita kashyap
- 24th May, 2010
something i composed on a still standing bus. crap. but critique. it
is prose n poetry now. i should work on turning it into poetry.
1 comment:
so very apt, not just about McLeodganj but any of these quaint little hillside towns turning into super tourist hot spots. you have also addressed, albeit sublimely, the lives of the people in exile. beautiful.
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