Here no longer be dragons, high Tibet
There are some mysterious places in this world. I call these the “here be dragons” places. Medieval European map makers coined this term. They used to put up this comment on areas they were unsure of (most of the far east). There is a map on my wall. I stuck some “here be dragons” labels on them. One such place on my map is the place where the borders of Tibet, India and Burma meet. This is also where the mythical Shangri-La is supposed to be.
One September morning, I trekked up a misty hill. It took about two hours. All along the way, I could hear Tibetan shepherds sing. I could never see them; just hear their singing. I reached the top and found a little girl. Her mother was barbecuing some yak meat. The mother offered me some meat along with some wine.
The wine was strong, I became a poet (apologies to Li Bai).
Hey little Tibet girl,
happy-shiny like a pearl.
You will not talk,
just play with that yak.
And that dress so pink
that makes me blink.