78 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY LIF E IN THE MOUNTAINS 79 THE DOON FROM MUSSOORIE Moody. temperamental, bright, s it an enchanted city drowned Changing with the changing light, I In the days of long ago, The Doon now lowers, dark with storm Or is this an illusion found Or quickly melts in laughter gay' In the sun's bright glow? In her captivating way. Whate'er it is, it seems to me Or clouds descend and swiftly form As though I looked beneath the sea, A billowing ocean. Then it seems And saw a country wondrous fair, To drown anew my land of dreams. Strangely lovely, strangely bright, Drowned in clear, translucent light, When the skies are starred at night Haunting beauty lingering there. And the crystal atmosphere Makes the stars and lights appear In the far beyond the plain Scintillating, clear and bright, Is girdled by a mountain chain, Then smiles my heart, my heart is glad The Swaliks clothed in distant blue, To watch those miles in sable clad; Through clouds and sunshine changing ever, For or: the darkness I see flung And in effortless endeavour, A radiant, diamond necklace strung Creating co lour schemes anew. With twinkling stars or shining eyes, And as I look, what should I see? The great wide plain in deep blue green, - A point of light move steadily, - Broad silver rivers flow between Perhaps a car, perhaps a train Fair fields and forests. Cities lie Cleaves the darkness of the plain. Dreaming, peacefully at rest I know that life is stirring there Upon that rich and ample breast, Inhab itin g my ci ty fair. Gazing at the open sky. LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS 80 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY 81 MUSSOORIE North, east and west tall m ountains rise Range beyond range, until the gleam, OUSES clamber up and down high hills That glimpse of eternal snows against pale HDappling the oak-green forest slopes, skies, Or perch triumphantly some ridge where fills Rewards brave visitors who stream The wind each nook, and ardent hopes Along the Chakar ; those who puff and blow Are all fulfilled, for every side But still determined, panting onward go. Affords a glorious panorama vast and wide. The south looks down upon an endless sight Happy Valley, buttressed on the west Of plains unrolled in mighty length, By calm Ben Oagh ~ holds outstretched hands Lost in the distant sea of mellow light; With gay Mussoorie, where crowds in quest While pressing on in lordly strength Of pleasure, bargain at rickshaw stands, The Ganges and the Jumna grow Take dandies, ponies, join the fevered rush In volume as their sacred waters onward go. Jostling through the holidaying crush. O straggling town, where blind hearts oft reside, Impulsive and self-willed Landour breaks away From parent town and creeps along Be co mforted . – S ome day we will arise Through squalid odours, bright bazaar display, Beholding your fair beauty, spacious, wide, A crooked lane, a motley throng, And read the Eternal in your eloquent eyes, Struggling up eight thousand feet, For all who have upon your heights To rest at last in fir-wood forests sweet. Must grow in spirit fed on these delights. .. Chakkar - ride or walk 82 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY LIFE IN THE M0UNTAINS 83 JULY EVENING IN MUSSOORIE And red and orange, furs, All lovely things, REY mist and pale, continuous drizzle Banaras sarees bright, G Like fine spray; Mussoorie's streets are wet; Tibetan silver rings, Small children play And urns and jugs of copper, In pools, while anxious mothers tug Gleaming brass, Them safely out. The rickshaws, darkly hooded o'er These tempt poor, reckless buyers Twist in and out As they pass 'The maze of black umbrellas, Large and small. Through pools of light that rain-bright fall The brown, bare legs Through open doors. Of coolies, fly Gay throngs leave wind and rain In rhythmic speed; rain-soaked, The coolies cry For dancing floors, And shout, scattering pedestrians Or just perhaps a cup Left and right, Of steaming tea, While on the rickshaw speeds, And in its flight Ham-banjo or an ice The wheels squelch water From Kwality. On the passers-by. Evening falls and lights Oh ! In spite of rain and mist Make darkness gay And Monsoon weather, With golden ladders splashing Gay sarees and bright western gowns On the grey And worn macadam. Windows All move together, Laugh right at you Flitting to and fro along the Mall As they show a bright array Laughing carelessly, Of scarves, br ight blue, Why fret, when lights are gay And thoughts agree? And so the clock goes round, And chequered life Is one day nearer to that sleep Where neither strife, Nor gaiety nor laughter. Vex again our mortal mind. 84 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS 85 THE SACRED TRAIL Any day From April to October, you may meet Gangotri lies Pilgrims, padding the winding, sacred way With tired, bare feet. Cradled in majesty. where tower in serried form White ridges, radiant under sunny skies In white Cruel in storm. Or saffron clad, unjewelled, save the flame Of deep desire in zealous hearts alight In Rama's name, THE JAUNTY ROSE Behind one ear They file , To herald the dawn of summer here' Women and men, the gleaming heights their goal, With jauu'ty grace Is a wild rose hung. His lean brown face To wash away those things that do defile Gleams as he sweeps dry leaves together, - The human sou l. Paharies love fires in every weather. It kindles apace. Sacred fire! For years these poor have scraped, and saved and striven From the wild rose To satisfy the burning heart's desire A summery fragrance outward flows. To be forgiven; The pahari folds For who, Bare feet beneath him and out-holds They feel, but those who tread that difficult course His hands to the warmth of the flickering blaze, That leads on to the glaciered cave, Gau Mauk, His face impassive. Perhaps he prays The Ganges' source, To his gods, who knows? Can feel True peace? Surely the wrathful gods forgive! Surely the gods must hear their heart s appeal; To them peace give. LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS 86 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY 87 THE COOLIE LAD O I can smell the sweetness NIGHT ON THE TEHRI ROAD Of the pale wild rose, And a sense of life's completeness Overflows, - overflows. SEE him on a pony With a lantern in his hand, Jogging through the dark Poetry steals the breast And mist-enveloped land, Of a brown pahari lad, A baniya winding eastwards In dirty, ragged vest, To his small abode, Poorly clad, - poorly clad. Winding through the white mist Along the Tehri Road. His coolie basket is Embroidered with wild flowers; Klop ! Klop ! Klop! His slim, deft hands wrought this The dying hooves I hear In idle hours, - idle hours. As I watch his tiny lantern light Grow faint and disappear. Shoppers in the street The road grows very lonely, O I know he will beguile' Now only I am there, When they see his basket sweet' The street lights all are blinded. They will smile, - softly smile. With the mist's thick swath in g ha ir. And delighted at the thought Of some coppers, with a will I love the quiet solitude, I love the mountain road, He will carryall they've bought That leads me, winding westward, Up the hill, - up the hill. To my own and dear abode. Then they will smell the sweetness Of the pale wild rose, Till a sense of life's completeness Overflows, - overflows. Baniya - a grain merchant. 88 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS 89 BASANT - CHILD OF SPRING MET her, - just a tiny mountain child, I As I was wandering In haunts of fern and flower wild, And it was Spring. In quaint full robe that touched her small bare feet, A kerchief round her hair, HAPPY IN HER GIVING She looked a thing of grace and sweet Standing there. I HEAR the whispering of grassy Long-lashed hazel eyes set wide apart, sheaves; Danced with golden light; A grass-cutter is mowing earth's green Tiny hands quick fluttered to her heart hair; In shy delight And as each dewy bunch is cut, it As I bent down to ask what name was hers, leaves Hand on her head, A fragrant sigh to quiver in the air. Soft as the wind that touched the forest firs, Yet, not of longing or of sad regret, " Basant, " she said. For in the giving up of self, each gains Another life. Next summer will beget Bewitching child! in sombre native dress As rich a harvest in the monsoon rains. And silver hoops that lie Earth's big heart remains untouched and blithe; About your childish neck, in mute caress, She does not fear the keen and shining scythe Love, I descry, That swiftly sweeps across her fragrant tresses, Has pressed a dimple in your olive cheek, But, happy in her giving, al ways blesses. That comes and goes Betraying mischief, - and I thought you meek! Ah! who knows What elfin influence is shed by Spring; What lovely flame She kindles in young hearts, inspiring Those who bear her name? 90 I HAVE LOVED BEAUTY LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS 91 P AHARI LIFE Soon the spasmodic quiet thrum Of milk into a wooden pail, Tells of a milkman's work begun. I. T is dark upon the quiet hill. The stars begin to pale; I Upon my back I lie and gaze Grey dawn stirs the world to prayer; Upon night's sky.