Who wants to go to your town?

Languid Lazy afternoon

beckons me to slumber

almost…..

tis the fall season…

dried tamarind leaves

have turned white

defiantly hanging on to

the branches

daring the wind to make them fall

elsewhere leaves

turn from green to yellow

and than a pale shade of brown

fluttering slowly to the ground

in the warm breeze

a quaint little village

narrow roads lead to

still narrower entrances

marked with crossed iron bars

step into a different world inside

a big jamun tree

majestic in the immense courtyard

embraced by open corridors

full of warm people

in the hot afternoon

flags atop the myriad temples

perched on little mountains

chequered shades of sun

under the green trees

little yellow shoots of green

bursting out from the same stems

who let go of the leaves earlier

new giving way to the old

so lovely and peaceful here

who wants to go back to the hustle bustle of your town?