The Haunting Mystery of Kollihills(Hills of the Ghosts)
I sallied out for the first time in 1980
with my friend, skillful to cut jokes,
on a sinuous road with curves and bends
to Kollihills well known for herbs and rills.
When the bus rolled down a little
and crawled up on a hair-pin bend,
we were speechless with fear-laid eyes.
We were off the bus at noon
and looked at the way down
leading to the famous water-falls.
“ Shall I come with you? ”-a fair lady
of our age in a sable sari
and a bunch of jasmine on her head
asked and smiled at us.
We looked at each other and grinned:
“ Oh, you’re welcome”
We put on frills to our speech
and queried if she wasn’t feared.
Smiles were her silent answer.
“ There are no secure footholds,
you take my hand”, we both yelled
and stretched our hands in glee.
“ He is like your brother. Don’t worry.
Hasn’t your husband come? ”
Before I finished my words,
my well-built friend eyed me with shock
and gave of fraternal fumes.
But the charmer began to cry
and shed scalding tears.
I put a salve somehow on her hurt heart.
The precipices failed to alarm us
as we were sailing in the sky.
“Look! The monkeys screech”,
I tried to divert her mind.
But she never looked up at the trees.
We felt that our knees were breaking
and gasped for speech.
But she was hoping down with ease.
We’re thrilled by the shrill sounds of birds
but she had no ears for them.
When we got a peep at the falls
that was pouring down from sky high hills,
we cried cheers to all.
But she wasn’t stirred a bit.
My friend rushed to have a bath
And I let loose my flowery speech
but found hard to enter into
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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