Chalsha

 It is noon

The dark green tea leaves glitter

In the sun,

And tall trees canopy

 Pitched streets.

Tourists, foreign and deshi

Whizz past

In dark glassed vehicles.

And inside beautiful eyes

Nourish hungry looks for

Blue hills, open sky and forest virgin and deep.

From cities big

They come and relax,

Relax and relax

Amid tall trees tall

And the poor forest folks,

Some spend a weekend,

 Some a week or more

In famed forest bungalows

Or in hotels and motels,

Mushroomed round

The spot of sheer joy

And mirth and bliss.

Refreshed, relaxed,

Light as a cotton-sack

They go back

Home and write

Wonder-guidebooks

Or travel piece

And earn name and grow big,

And touch the sky.

Year ends,

Flowers shed,

Flowers bloom,

Children die,

Children born.

Again they come

And stay and relax

And touch

The sky

And it continues…