DARJEELING TEA

The man with the emerald eyes and the quite prominent Adam's apple
Drives silently on the winding, teeth- chattering road to Darjeeling
Landscapes pass him by like a collage of memories
It's been such a long journey
But he is almost there
It won't be long now....

He has seen this road before
He seems to still remember
Every speed-breaker, every signpost
Every rough patch, every milestone

But even then, she reveals herself in new ways to him
Like a young bride or a Bergman film
And still, despite being precarious, even treacherous; she retains her ability
To move, astound and physically exhaust him
With the sheer nature of her melancholic beauty

Because this road has a face, a personality even;
Rose cheeked, milky thighed, big breasted, blackberry eyed
He can taste her on his tongue
This road reminds him of another journey five years ago
She had been riding pillion with him then
Reading maps so that they wouldn't get lost
This time he wants to lose himself
To find himself

Nowadays he can be anything he wants
For the last couple of weeks, he's been traveling
Incognito
He and his twenty- seven suitcases
And the thousand aliases
For example, last week in Devprayag, he was Dr. Sampoorn Singh, MD
Wildlife photographer Anjan Dutta in Bagdogra on Saturday
And yesterday in Siliguri; Rajen Raina, travelling salesman of women's underwear

He has levitated in Gangtok
He has eaten a snake in Kalimpong
He has met dying soldiers along the way
He has lived without food for forty- two straight hours
He has almost been eaten alive by a leopard in Joshimath

And then he sees Kanchenjunga for the first time
Although it is said that Kanchenjunga appears very rarely
And only to those who believe they can see it;
It's not a dramatic statement by any means
But rather, much like Salinger's endings
It's just
There
Elusive, insurmountable, matter of fact....

He parks his motorcycle on the roadside
The remaining distance will have to be walked
Perhaps deliberately; perhaps by oversight
He leaves the maps and compasses behind
And the road

Once, just once, he looks back at her
Long after he's left
The road will remain
And she will whore herself out for other drivers to use
Again and again and again

As he walks on, he reflects at the life he is leaving behind
The morning alarms, the violet eyes and the ATM machines
But he has no regrets
He only wishes
She were there