A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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March 2009, vol 5 no 1

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The Threshold

distant rapids . . .
a rumbling song
from the bridge

"Suicide point", the guide says, "you need to see it, Memsahib." The driver takes the car up the mountain range, without grace or expertise, it looks like he'll murder us even before we reach this point. Up and up we go through raw muddy roads. The car comes mercifully to a halt. We walk toward the famed suicide point and look . . .

Sheer fall
A single sheet of dripping mist, almost pulls the sky into the valley. And from beyond the horizon a reddish-orange glow softly emerges. . .

Into this scene of great intensity all that remains is the beauty of a fleeting moment . . .

my hair
in your face

_kala is the pen name of Kala Ramesh

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