... And then there was Darjeeling

… And then there was Darjeeling

Beyond the turns, beneath the skies,

A city grew in hills of jade,

And unlike the caprice of the mists,

Gave memories that didn’t fade

Made of dreams, Darjeeling

Shone with the peaks of snow behind,

Kanchenjunga of them all,

On that day, generous, kind

Your friends did say, it’s a nasty place

The hills overrun with crowd,

Batasia, Caventers, Tiger Hill

Noisy and just blaring loud

No reprieve from the summer blaze,

The hills too were baking hot,

With not much space in the sloping mall,

Except the Zen book I had bought.

Yet, despite all the vices that we were, 

I had found my peace in all that din,

Imagine then the tears that flowed

When I went beyond the timeless Queen.

Magic in the mountain air,

Timelessness in every day,

With snows above, and streams below – 

Shone Takdah, Tumling, Tinchuley.

Only memories live, isn’t that the rule?

Yet, the shadows gleam with a glow of light,

One look behind and the smile returns,

With nothing left in life to fight

Let it then be a tourist trap,

Let there be nothing left to find!

For those who seek, it’s not a place,

But the last refuge of a brooding mind…