Flipping through the pages,
I found a pressed neelakirunji.
Stuck between the odd world of book,
Filled with memories of world outside.

It was last day of vacation,
Fruitfully spent over a month,
In a small village of Munnar,
Which nestled between the glorious ranges.
Bidding adieu to grandparents was tearful,
So was to the delicacies that we feasted.
But one thing panged my heart more,
It was leaving behind my friend.

He was nothing different than the,
Village boys clad in short trousers.
Shouting and creating havoc,
Goofing around in their own world.
In my daily quest of adventure,
We had a chance encounter.
Which...