We were there,
Eight and half years back;
Trekking the beaten path,
Sipping tea by the shack.
Shivering under the sheath,
Awestruck by the June wonder;
Only a day before-
The shrine had been snowed under.
I remember it serene,
Though, it had been bustling.
Breathing in the vastness,
Our lungs were tingling.
A snip glances at the deity
And a nudge to move the line;
A captured memory by the steps,
In a picture treasured so fine.
We had come down running,
Ditching the bends in-between,
Securing steps on brushwood,
Zigzag trek we’d already been.
Now, all that is washed away,
Only the Shrine sits the surge;
While many lives lost,
And prayers submerged
©Himani Rawat Nayal
Himani Rawat Nayal blogs here.
