My FB and blogger friend , Dhiren Shah aka Hitchwriter , of Bharuch, keeps taking off for trips frequently by car, and lately has been known to be wandering in the Himachal and Uttarakhand mountains, accompanied by his family, and his trusted Nikon camera.
Amidst clicks of dangerous roads, waterfalls, mountain peaks, and steaming tea cups , he managed to click this one of a branch of a wild fig tree, laden with fruits.
Clearly, not just laden with fruits, but also with meaning. Two of our common friends immediately commented and said there needs to be a poem on this, and mentioned my name.
The result may be viewed below !
The mother Tree
her two deep black eyes
focused far
on the turn
of the mountain road.
Perhaps expecting a visitor.
The family is agog,
the young ones
and cousins,
some all over each other,
some in sensible crowds,
and some peering
and pushing
and generally hanging around
in anticipation.
He arrives,
"the ghost who eats"
a Nikon around his neck,
and glances around,
seeking to
meet the Ficus damsels.
Two of them,
overcome,
simply blush ,
pink in a world
dominated by
green dada figs.
Perhaps ,
they haven't noticed
that the Nikonwala
is standing
with a BB (Bharuchian Beauty)
by his side.....
her two deep black eyes
focused far
on the turn
of the mountain road.
Perhaps expecting a visitor.
The family is agog,
the young ones
and cousins,
some all over each other,
some in sensible crowds,
and some peering
and pushing
and generally hanging around
in anticipation.
He arrives,
"the ghost who eats"
a Nikon around his neck,
and glances around,
seeking to
meet the Ficus damsels.
Two of them,
overcome,
simply blush ,
pink in a world
dominated by
green dada figs.
Perhaps ,
they haven't noticed
that the Nikonwala
is standing
with a BB (Bharuchian Beauty)
by his side.....
BB :p :p
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