Lethargic meteorology- perched above Darjeeling with a cup of tea.
Angular concrete populates the steep slope, like a growth of bracket fungi in the moist air.
Tankers and jeeps belch their noise and smoke into clogged streets,
Congested with crowds, offering their voices to the parabolic sweep
Of the land. Rivulets and streams, are channelled into a snarl of plumbing,
A hopeless tangle of inch thick steel, hissing at ill fitted joints
And fatigued meanderings.
Moving low, slumped into the open bowl of the valley, lie unbroken swathes of cloud.
The antidote to divided nature. Powder-white lake of burdened vapour,
Struggling to regain the sky. Tenderly brushes, through the supplicant and lush
foliage of tea gardens; infiltrates snarled forests, with the subtlety of spirit.
Settles on the standing cedars, which rain gently on their own roots.
Translucent tendrils followed by an eerie tide, swallow up the mismatched labyrinth
Of streets. Station buildings, schools and busy shops are enveloped by the soft and silver belly of the mist. Expansive space, immersed in ether, is suggested only by acoustics,
A deadened collage of dislocated sound. Amnesia, encroaching, brings a blind reprieve,
The chaotic mass of masonry is lost in disembodied dreams. While the clutter of crowds,
in the ambient glow, dissolve like wisps of steam.