Monday, February 10, 2014

Let Me Know

I will see you in Dhanaulti, or
   when you come by Delhi again
Let me know.

When you feel like hearing the roaring waterfalls again
   to hear the bleating of mountain goats,
   to smell tinder burning in the sun-drenched huts
   with ripe pumpkins bloating on their roofs,
Let me know.

When you have sudden urges to meet Abdul
   who we haven't met for years – we wonder
   if he still sells tea at the town balcony

   overlooking the knackered town they lovingly call home
Let me know.

Let me know,
   I could get a cheap flight,
   get a seat stuck between a crying baby and
   an off-mooded mother,
   listen to airline instructions over and over again,
   wait in line for trains,
   hail down a dusty rattling bus,
   vomit up my morning's oily cheap lunch, 
   walk through non-descript towns
   and forget it all as soon as I see
   you and Annapurna (8091m above sea level)
   basking in the sun,
   morning or evening or noon, it doesn't matter.