Treasure Island

S.D. TIWARI

(December.1955 / India)

The village I lived in


That winter early morning I reached there.
All over bloomed yellow mustered flowers;
Looked as gold flakes scattered widely in the fields
and studded silvery pearls, dew drops on leaves.

Lush green trees were smiling, as used to do then.
I was plucking mangoes from the orchard, when.
Adjacent to it, crystal clear water in the pond,
looked as the large mirror was laid on the ground.

I could spot the mango tree that was most juicy.
I always preferred, the luscious one from this tree.
In compound of the house, flowers red and yellow,
bloomed broadly, mainly of roses and marigold.

Leaves of 'Peepal' tree, welcomed me waiving hands.
Mild wind took the tall bamboo trees to dance.
It’s resonating flute music filled sweetness in ears.
Seemed, hamlet was adorned by Goddess of splendor.

After many years I met her, my village my birth land.
Knowing that now all was not mine, I got distressed.
Most of land I used to play was divided or sold out.
My family had shifted to town, I stayed in uncle’s house.

Outsider industrialists had occupied much of land,
Lot of constructions and smoke emitting vents,
Government schemes, school and other buildings,
With my share of small piece of land I could do nothing.

Splendor beauty pulled to stay back again in her womb
but feared whether the changed scenario would adopt.
She is now not the same as I used to love her and she too.
Spending few days there, returned having despaired soul.

Her beauty, simplicity, her love and reminiscences of years
captured my mind and soul, impossible to forget ever.
But for circumstances I always love to live in womb of her;
green fields, chirping birds, aromatic shrubs, closure to nature.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, April 10, 2013
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