These are some of the poems recently published in Himal Magazine.
The poem ‘Darjeeling’ might be relevant in the recent Gorkhaland Context. I remember the first evening in St. Josephs School. After the initial introduction, I was taken to the dinning hall by our prefect Patrick Wilson. The hostel lives spent there at the lap of the serene hills were one of the best part of my life. During Sundays, we dressed up in blue blazers, paired with our best friend and walked all the way from Singmari to Chaurasta. Chaurasta, has not changed even today. The smell of horses, the windy road that makes one complete loop around the hills, the fog is till fresh in my memories. And when we talk of Darjeeling, we can’t forget the blue toy train. This poem was written, remembering all those beautiful years spent in the queen of hills.
It was early February, a winter morning.
On an empty platform, the blue train engine arrived.
It coughed and belched. It hissed a jet of pure white steam.
I saw a blue hoarding – ‘Darjeeling, 0 Mile’.
Nobody filled or emptied the station.
Upon the ceiling, behind the mesh of iron
Supporting the platform, the pigeons
Had built houses. I sat until late, listening to their sound.
And then the train moved;
The pines, the loops, smell of coal,
the cold wind, the sting of winter on my skin –
and that bygone age.
Everything reminds me of Darjeeling.