Mandovi
walk in silence
lost in the western ghats
some silent people...some voices unheard
then some coconut trees ..some churches and a sea
in the dry air of the after noon
a shril cry in a native tune
it was mandovi coming of age
a gift from a half-realized unsaturated dream
subdued by the influx
essence of the konkan forests in her sway
nubile juvenile fertile
she shows a trace of a lost history
as she opens herself to the sea
Mandovi is the name of the river that meets the Arabian sea at Dona Paula...
what a beautiful name for a river...i tried to capture that essence in camera..without much success...so the poem...
and if u are expecting some bikini clad foreigners getting tanned in the sun...go watch some porn rather...u pervert
I like this one ...the triviality of human wishes ..the innocence we try to protect...against the hungry enormity of nature...the delicate beginning of family...so tender in its wishes ...and hence the accompanying fear....that this innocence is orphaned
seems Gothic eh...its Baroque actually
