Darjeeling, you are beautiful!

Here, the gold mingles with the sun
and silver in the stars.
The sky an incredible blue,
at times even invisible under the wrap of wandering clouds.
I inhale a lungful of fresh and crisp
Darjeeling air, walking
through the auditorium of thick dense pine woods,
where the cicadas have raised a symphony
to a crescendo.


The lazing boys and girls sit in the laid back sun
in the quaint villages
of bejewelled cottages
which sparkle in the lavish Himalayan landscape.


I am exasperated ascending the climb to my hotel.
A steaming cup of tea
with a bite of Black Forrest
at Glenary's, tone me up in the lazy afternoons.


The fluffy dogs, the hard headed porters,
the winding potholed roads, the tea gardens,
the momos and thuppas, the old churches and monasteries,
the pretty girls....
its hard to leave them all, back here.

The Kanchenjunga in the meantime
peeps out through the clouds
like a guardian angel of Darjeeling; She blesses me.
My pilgrimage is done with.