The first few rays of the pristine radiant sun-light
Simmers into my room, like a passionate penetration.
I open my sleepy eyes and smile with subdued might
For I am now back, in the Land of abysmal devotion.
Ah Mizoram! Sweet Mizoram! Resplendent Mizoram.
Nowhere else is the sky so blue nor the hills so green.
The mist covered mountains and many a hillside farm
Entwined together to carve out a Home so serene.
I rise from bed and walk outside my tiny room,
Staring at the scenic beauty and inhaling the aura.
Such picturesque exquisiteness dispels all gloom
T’is far more exotic than Paradise or Shangri-la.
Idyllic silhouettes, Nature’s creation at its best,
A natural wonder personified many times over.
Especially after a brief rain, leaving you breathless;
A concoction of tranquility and serenity shower.
Mizoram, my Mizoram, land of the gallant Zo braves,
With Tlawmngaihna everywhere and nothing to fear.
Here’s where I was born, and here will lay my grave,
Nothing is more honorable than to be buried here.
Now the sun is visible over the looming Durtlang
Its rays permeating through the air so lucid.
Lighting up my little room perched on Chaltlang
Still, everything around me is calm and placid.
Morning birds flutter together in uniformed flocks
Chirping their way through the diaphanous mist.
Until they can find their home in a distant hillock
Only to be disturbed once again and flight persist.
As I admire the beauty that cannot be described
I realize why I am back here narrating this story.
The captivating sceneries need to be inscribed,
So that others too can bask in Mizoram’s glory.
