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Day 31: Dirang, Arunachal
We trudge up and up to the town’s jewel
Bright and red, it sits proudly atop a hill
The Buddhists call it a monastery
Standing there, I feel time’s gone still.
A few pups come running to us
‘Tickle my ears, rub my belly’, they tell us.
Rolling about, their underneaths on full display
“That’s not gentlemanly, boys”, I admonish their play.
From the corner of my eye, I see a five year old
She’s ike a warm kitten in the mountain cold
She smiles widely, and there are a few teeth missing
A train can pass through those gaps, chugging and hissing
She runs to me, charges into my tummy,
On this little rabbit’s tshirt is a cute little bunny
I whisper little somethings and she gurgles and cackles
She makes me feel like a daddy, one who’s funny.
Looking at the scene, the roses bloom a little more
The wind whispers to the prayer wheels to turn some more.
She has that baby smell- a cross between honeysuckle and jam,
And her little fingers sit lightly on my palm
She rubs my stubble and laughs like mad
Maybe some day I shall make an okayish dad.
We play for an hour, there atop the hill
The sun turns orange, letting all its shades spill
There in that monastery, as we all did our drill
In those moments, time really did go still.