An early morning in Kotagiri,
And the sun shining hard and bright.
I see fluttering butterflies and I see raving sights,
The roads are empty, the chill of the weather bites.
And I walk on, alone watching nobody go by.
Maybe, it is the magic of the past rains,
that makes this sun seem so conscientious this morning,
I wander more and reach the hill and see my house down alone,
It seems so separated and full of life, and yet so forlorn.
The road I walk this morning has a vehicle broken down,
I wonder at the ingenuity of man, who to reach home swerves around.
There are a few birds, this morning and I wonder why,
Maybe the rains had given them a fright,
I walk and think aloud,
So many trees are being cut down,
No one cares and no one knows.
So I thought I should write it down.
The road has cracked with the drumming rain,
I see again anarchy prevail,
It takes time to start work,
and you may need some wondrous luck.
The roads may yet get repaired and with luck soon too,
But I walk on and reach my purpose and sit down and click hard,
The sights I saw were like the stationary tram,
It may move or may not, trees may get cut or may not, but I pass by watching on.