She was there...

While Goddess Durga descended from her heavenly abode in Kailash to the thirsty streets of the City of Joy, here’s what I was up to…

As Kolkata got attired in her festive couture,
Leaving the glare of city lights, I had my little tryst with nature,
In the land of pines, tall and evergreen,
Where apples greet the eye, in climes serene.
At the foot of the Himalayas, in the state of Himachal,
Gracefully sits Shimla, the erstwhile British summer capital.
Higher up the rugged slopes lies India’s last village,
At Chhitkul, in a tent, I stayed put in willful hermitage!
Stayed up at night to watch the stars dance,
The shutterbug in me, ever ready to capture the clouds in a trance.
I thought of the Kolkata girl, adorned in her saree
As I shivered and shook, in my fleece jacket, my teeth chattery.
I felt I was far away from the Goddess,
From the rhythmic incantations and all the divine goodness –
Until the Kailash dazzled my eyes with a rare feast,
Illuminating the mountains in a metamorphic twist.
As an empyrean orchestra played in hues of the sunset,
I knew that the Goddess was indeed omnipresent...

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