Picnic on meadows

Pretzels, drinks, sweet tarts,

a spring picnic on meadows.

Litter left behind.

Linking with Ronovan Writes

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Cruising around

Cruising around Himalayas,

an impromptu roadtrip. 

Thundering Bullet 

tracing sleek curves.

Whipping winds,

blowing on skin, tossing hair. 

Camping in wilderness.

Melodic guitar riffs, 

crackling bonfires, 

ringing laughters. 

Dense silence, broken. 

Days, spent exploring, 

trekking, kayaking, ziplining;

nights, huddled in tents, 

random conversations, 

unfinished coffees;

sunups, soaking divinity, 

capturing picture-perfect, 

dew-bathed sunrises.

Passionate kisses

on snowclad glades. 

Making love on foliage

beneath cinematic nightspread.

Tingling pleasant sensations, 

lingering, leaving a yearning. 

Everything wild, 

everything beautiful... 

everything so very us, 

now buried in thick albums, 

gathering dust

while we struggle

with bunch of office files

and piles of laundry.

Linking with Photo Challenge and Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Rakhigarhi

 Once upon a time, there was a town.

Was.

Flourishing, breathing, living.

Comings and goings alive, 

with humanity.

Soulful streets, bustling merrily. 

Civic life, spirited. 

People, unfettered and free. 

Art and sciences, pioneering. 

Architecture, spellbinding. 

Religion, simple, 

sanctified by purity of thoughts. 

Erudites, their knowledge, deep and polished.

Dynamic cradle of civilization.

4500 years ago. 

Forlorn, 

the mounds stare silently today.

The greatest realm, dilapidated, 

the reign reduced to relics.

The enduring question 

“who we were” 

echoing in archaic remains. 

Answer! 

Safely buried 

with the fossils smiling sinisterly. 

Rakhigarhi. 

Where the broken shards 

of ancient history 

prick the residents daily.

Welfare unto all

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗