Meet Me by the Lamp Post in Mussoorie
Meet me where the lamp light glows,
On Mall Road where the evening slows.
Where footsteps echo, hurried, fleet,
Yet time stands still on this old street.
The winterline melts into the sky,
A painter’s stroke-soft, wistful, shy.
A ribbon of fire at the mountain’s crest,
Like love that burns but won’t find rest.
Shawls brush past, in whispers low,
Laughter drifts where cold winds blow.
Chai cups clink, the streetlights gleam,
Yet I wait here, lost in a dream.
This lamp has seen the love that stays,
And the ones who part in misty haze.
Tonight, let neither fate nor time,
Steal the warmth of your hand in mine.
Let the winds be witness to what we swear,
Let Mussoorie keep the love we bear.
So meet me here -no words, just light,
A promise held by Mussoorie’s night.
