I'm in petrichor of yet to fall night rain
upon distant foothills of Nilgiris,
dusk's heavy with monsoon clouds
so am I with peeking flowers
of niveous petals and orange pedicels
like fallen snow on burning embers
now I'm in unexplainable fragrance
as of a shrine
and of a feeling of fullness as of love
partially peeled barks lurch quietly
in moist winds
this is late for the billows to rise
untimely in the middle of spring
tints of upside-down flowers on ground
will soon be making tracks
through deluged wilds
it's already dark upon the slopes
with tea bushes it's dense
they're new here, sprawling wildly
onto the silence of endemic coppice
their monopoly sometimes makes me quiver
with fears of getting uprooted from here
nevertheless I bloom, I shed
for reasons unknown
to be with life...
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