The sky overflowed
With swirling clouds
And the Sun
Played hide and “seek”.

But the human mind was impure, strange
In the filth of our impersonal lives
And hence
We reached Shimla.

Sunset in the hills
Faltering memories
Of Kapilash, Meghasan*
Not easy to recollect
Day and night full with
Dreams and nature.

Trees, houses and people
Extended, Timeless.

Such indeed
Was morning and evening in Shimla
Apparitions of shadowy experiences.

Nature beckons me,
A golden valley appears
Beneath the wavy profile.

A hesitant hand, like a hunter
Tender, on an adolescent bosom under a frock
The sting of frank desire.

Street after street
We ogle at fresh addictions
Documenting decisions and choices,
From vantage points.

One noisy crowd
Of bazaar, Restaurants and makeshift shops
Follow another
As we loose ourselves
Among self-centered people.

Far away
I wander
A different gathering
The sound of silence.

*Hills in Orissa, India