Here’s my hand
I know the way
After all, it is my homeland
With many a curves in history it has fret
With many a caves, lakes and forests King Bhoj has set
Brimming with snapshot heavens
A fairy foreland.
Bhopal, known as the city of lakes
The brimming beating heart of Madhya Pradesh
The heart of Heart of India.
Sail with me on a little boat
Watch the Moon rise silently over the Upper Lake
and play hide and seek with the clouds
as we do some powwow,
about the facts and folklore
about the curves, some sharp and some only apparitions
in the long history.
King Bhoj build Bhopal in 11th Century
along with the Upper lake, the oldest human-made lake in India
upon which our boat babbles on this silent night
There’s an old wives’ tale
That the king constructed this lake to cure himself
of a skin disease.
From our vantage point in this little boat
you can see the cable bridge in the east
Its sparkling neon cables
Casting a reflection
In the rippling dark water of the lake
Across the bridge, the upper lake
Or the Bhojtal, named after the King
gives away to the Lower Lake
Together known as Bhoj Wetlands
Many are the lakes, here in Bhopal
Criss crossing the city
like blood veins in the human body.
In the west stands a 32-feet huge statue
Raja Bhoj standing triumphantly over a pedestal
with a sword, overseeing the Bhojtal.
Hold on tight now, my dear
In the history of Bhopal, there came a jarring curve, shocking the whole world. Misery and death poisoned the blood veins of the city in December 1984. A gas leak incident killing people by the tens of thousands at the night of 2-3 December 1984. A city build and lived-in by Kings and Queens for thousands of years fell into ruins and became a ghost town. Most of the people left Bhopal and those who stayed, they inhaled the dangerous air and lived in an eerie atmosphere and when they lay in their beds on those winter nights they believed every dog in Bhopal was barking at the moon, they listened to it, to the ghosts roaming in the streets of Bhopal and they prayed.
The world has moved on since then, sorrow and terror of 1984 have just become ghosts of the past.
On this lake I once witnessed the most beautiful sunset of my life. It was from this very splendid spot itself, from where right now we are gazing at the radiant Moon hanging in the night sky filled with stars and its silver shadow shimmering in the black rippling water of the lake.
Setting Sun was
Sinking behind the black hills
into the golden lake
Painting the sky with burning colors
yellow and orange
Before it could paint the sky red
the golden lake washed it away at the horizon
Candy colored in the afterglow of sunset.
© dixitmrityunjay, 2020. September heart-to-hearts.
For dVerse Poets Pub: https://dversepoets.com/2020/04/28/take-me-with-you/ Host: Lillian
in response to following prompt
“The TITLE of your poem should be a place: a city, a site, a place you’ve been. The title should be like a pin on a map….telling us where we’ll be traveling to. The POEM ITSELF should take us there. A travelogue of sorts. Imagery, description. Help us take a “vacation” with your words.