An ode to Chandigarh
Looking down from the Kasauli creek
I see the chaandi of Sukhna
Oh! What a land
A young lass
Beauty, brain and bass
Attire so green
Curves and lines clean
Comely and cosy
Calm and cool
At times, a little naughty
But mostly serene
A silent prowess speaking prose
Swaying looks and savvy pose
Deep eyes and vision long
The lass grows
Shoulders broad and shins long
Nose a wee high, upper lip a little soft
Demurring now and then
Flashes yes but not oft
Fulsome splendour
Braced in grace
Her colour you can see
In trail and trace
Suitors beware of this lasso
Sun not style is her desire
Grace not power is required
Her house is on the nature’s street
Walk a few steps, do not drive
to her abode
Bring not rubies and diamonds
But come clean
Cause,
The lass has not yet forgotten
Her parentage
Spring flowers, autumn breeze
Gold and mango green
The corn, the mill and milky steam
Pray, do not bring silicon and steel
Bring it you could
Soul and seed
Come to belong
And not to stay
The lasso,
Will take you
Onto the open hand
To take far less and give a lot away
Looking down from the Kasauli creek
I see the chaandi of Sukhna
Man Mohan Singh, Chandigarh
