Still are the waters, Tranquil, alive and poised Bouncing the sun off, From behind the hills high above The Shikara forms a silhouette, Quietly advancing at the horizon. As we travel further, Colors emerge, then slowly fade away.
The Poem Without Graphics A Million Light Years Away Floating with time in spaces far, dark, and wide Sputnik voyages further and further Fear of the unknown A will to live A will to fly Ready to break the tie
In the unnamed streaming rivers of Chamba
In the always satisfying, deceptively simple shopping complexes of Chandigarh
In the maddeningly addictive street food places of Delhi
By a dusty city road stood a wooden cabin decorated with garlands of tobacco pouches and cut-outs of Jesus Christ and Lord Shiva. Steeped in the fragrance of sweet, milky tea, it glittered with peg-sized glass cups brimming with tea. Men
Perched on a latticed window of a century old haveli, the pigeons fluttered about as irreverently as the milling crowd. Steeped in history, stumbling through the 21st century, the city of brick-red buildings and stone-walled minarets stands aloof. Like a proud lioness,