From the Bay of Bengal to The Arabian Sea

The wavy ebbs look still from an aerial semblance

Bordered with a froth-like silver line.

A horizon so long; as though meeting the clouds on the skyline.

Far across the distance the Wright brothers’ invention takes off,

Leaving the city behind.

The flight sways to the tunes of the breeze,

Floating above the clouds,

Sometimes bumping into them;

Right below, the blue blue Marina is all aglow;

Resplendent with the rays of the sun.

Past the gleaming expanse of the sea,

Are dots of gentry

Roofed by patches of clouds.

Traversing across the skies of yonder;

The Bay of Bengal recedes

The Arabian Sea succeeds…

The blue expanse with mitigated sand-horizons.

Tilting past the scintillating breeze of the lush green coconut meadows,

Strutting above the dotted greenery,

The flight finds its runway to make its descent on god’s own country…

(Well god’s own country???)!!

P.S.: This piece was penned by me on the flight to Kozhikode from Chennai