O butterflies of the mustard fields!
Reach me
And teach me
Your secret of happiness.
I wait for you, o butterflies
Of the Spring to reach me
In the balcony from the
Golden mustard fields.
I can see you
Flutter, frolic and frisk
Over the gardens of yellow
And down to the shrub-engulfed cho*
That’s invited migratory birds
To this vibrant Shivalik region.
Tipsy with the mustard fragrance
You fly, run and chase,
As if a magician is juggling you
In the flower-studded fields.
You chase in broad daylight
Your love to the last corner
Even where danger lurks
From the tree-hidden hornet’s nest.
Yet you venture innocently
Into the suicidal loop
Never to play in the bright sunny day.
Unmoved by the demise
Of your friends under the shady corner
You constantly dribble over the yellow bunches.
O butterflies of the mustard fields!
Reach me
And teach me
Your secret of overflowing happiness.
By Onkar Sharma
* Cho means a ravine-like stream caused by water-flows in the hills and is often dry but flows during the rainy season. Cho is a word from a dialect spoken mainly in Himachal’s Kangra, Himarpur regions.
O S scribbles... 