Darjeeling Blues

Every day –

A troop of men

carrying guns

Are marching to surrender their weapons

through the Chowk Bazaar

Of the eighties

Colourful jerry cans

that used to line up in Laal Dhigi daily

And ancient Gorkhey Jeeps

Have long melted

Into the crowd of Mohabbat Galli

Up there–

On Mahakal Daara

endless prayers are whispered

Every morning and evening

For sons

to be enrolled in the army

For daughters

working in parlours and spas

to be safe

Mothers –

unable to secure a place for tomorrow

are shouting for their rights

In processions

That bear no fruit

Brothers –

looking for a place

For mothers to sell vegetables

Carrying slingshots

Maney, too, has gone

With a slingshot and a few rotis in his pocket

Maney hasn’t made it back

He wasn’t allowed to

The porter didi of the Railway Station

Casts her namlo aside

Keeps listening to news from the border

Keeps wondering

Whether her son is safe

Darjeeling—

The land of ancient dreams

Darjeeling, a bazaar of promises

Where even the railway

Harbours dreams

The land rovers, senior citizens now

Write poetry too

They know the songs of the hills by heart

Verses that carry love for the land

The struggle for identity

They sing them

Over and over again

Even if no one listens

Darjeeling—

Is benevolent

Darjeeling is patriotic

Keeps sacrificing beating hearts

On the altar of the nation

Surrendering dreams

And so

Even the nation

keeps Darjeeling close

The nation

keeps sending Darjeeling

Its hearts

Wrapped with love in the national flag

From the border

Day after day

Kanchenjunga unpacks

Bundles of hearts turned cold

Sent back by the nation

Kanchenjunga

Is helpless, stupefied

Kanchenjunga—

Keeps on gazing vacantly

Into the distance