Sunday, November 27, 2011

A Vanishing Shola


Sharp naked rock
Jutting onwards to the heavens
In defiance of the Earth the ghats rise
Cradling within it innumerable beings
Carved into a niche of their own

A meandering river and  vanishing grasslands
 becoming one with the distant horizon
A green blue ocean of a  remaining virgin Shola stretches
A thin wind lashing against the peak
Whistles the mournful tune of an aching forest

The pine casts an unearthly shadow
Its ground laden with slippery leaves and hardy cones
holds not a blade of grass

The wattles and the eucalyptus have established their hold
Aided by man, their legions expands
The Shola trees are vanishing
leaving behind the king and his denizens
battling the deathly hug of the wattles