I went to a place, where the
pomegranates ripen on trees,
till they erupt liquid squeeze.
The sputtered seeds, where the
papayas hang till decadent,
fall with a plop on the land.
Time seems to pause, while the
ants tuck away provisions in their worry,
the only ones ever in a hurry.
Car games are unheard, where the
children play koko and kabaddi,
sprint over rocks and climb trees.
Laughter ruptures the air, where the
umbrellas are made of sticks and leaves,
and pull along toys of coconuts- small and green.
Under the shady tree, where the
grown ups sit knitting and husking seeds,
while old stories are shared and memories.
No one was hungry, where the
food came straight from the ground,
to the pan and gobbled by hungry mouths.
Cars drive slowly, where the
trees are filled with song,
medleys of flowers blossomed all along.
Sheep let you pet them, where the
chickens couldn’t be chased,
and the bullocks peacefully grazed.
Dusk approached, then you
looked up at starry skies,
with children hugging you on every side.
I thanked God for the day, where there
was hope where all else stalled,
Hope- After all.
Written on a trip to Yelagiri hills, Tamilnadu.
Photo credit: https://www.daysoftheyear.com/days/day-of-hope/