| -Pooja Chopra |
| oh to watch unwatched the naked beauty of a rich earth! the rugged round pine trunks lean over the road, thickly entwined by the broad green climber leaves, the golden carpet of fallen needles borders on both sides a single hopper bird dances and takes off into the gentle slope, the stuffed conifers and tropical punch of jungle trees. It rains here, like someone on a huge commited task faithful diligent uniform patter the clouds are like chiding taskmasters roaring crackling flogging running the rain faster and louder like a frightened child onto more chores. the wind playing the harp, the pines singing like high tenors in unison the decidous trees singing the bass thunder like distant rumbling drums sum up the lessons of music in nature the rapt mountains stand in ascending order, the speckled grey and white ones like a blackboard merging in the grey sky. the jungle is all on the sides. Insides too. Here it is not me who wants to speak. It is the story that wants to be told. |
| Story untold |
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| ghg |