The pilgrim

Written by NANDA Nair A

Beside the Ganges,

Below the Himalayan foothills,

There rests Rishikesh-

The content bin of many.

The season is of drought-

Reap no earned,

Kids in misery, unwedded sister

The burden's his ship.

Brushing aside the bushes of

Misery,

Worked day and night he-

When water failed but not the sun.

A few more and Rishikesh's all his.

A penny earned, a step forward!

But a penny's worth knew he-

As under the heat, sweating hard-

Failing not a day.

And then,

Miracles as they are-

Erratic yet splendid:

Rains all down,

Dew covered leaves,

Clouds all up-

Sprouting new roots,

Growing berries of one's desire!

Field, brimming with utmost joy!

And when all seemed fine,

When nature aligned to

Aspirations of his-

When the birds chirped to the spring in

His gait,

The youngest of his fell sick!

Years worth of money,

Years piled up hopes,

Rishikesh moved places-

Unreachable for his heart...