The composure of these hills
Bears the brunt of enigmatic rains
Which pour intermittently as cloudbursts
Rend the night skies with music
We can never leave these hills
Only as the evening song
Gathers into roads to these sprawling
Hills
Transforms into growing loneliness
Do you remember how we played
Games in the school fields as the
Rains flooded the fields
And all of us ran to save ourselves
From the onslaught?
We mire in memory
Haphazard images of
The past, whiplashed by rains
Dreaming of flooded fields
And plum trees in the nearby orchards
You and I were travellers in youth
Travellers of the hills which
Opened arms to let us in
Our home
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Ananya S Guha
Picture Nick Victor
Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong a hill town in North Eastern India. He has been writing and publishing poetry for over forty years.
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