I’m walking downhill the boulevard
with picturesque sights at every verge,
through which I see rhododendrons
and roses at doors and windows of cottages –
with the backdrop of a peeking, pristine blue sky
through hills over which clouds playfully pry.
Even as I stand in awe at every other hedge-gate
to steal an eyeful of nature’s abundance –
Thimphu in the ‘land of happiness’ is blessed with:
A couple of furry dogs invariably come barking up at me
but they merely sniff around, then quietly watch
me as I steal a slice of the setting sunshine.
Then I stroll on with an eyeful of pictorial joy
I’ve collected as if alms from a doorstep as a handful of rye –
my soul is as if that of a wandering monk’s
as it’s floating light in the cool sky:
for in my mind’s eye I’m collecting gratuitous
sights – I’m carrying along in my heart’s inflated pouch.
Cars floating uphill I deftly dodge with pictographic sight
when two boys dribbling a football become primary highlight –
as I walk by satiated with their polite innocence
along with a woody aroma infused with the chill in soft sunlight,
my heart is full of the generous alms of sights I’ve imbibed
to carry back to my world to wear as a perfume named – ‘Sublime’