 |
Kashi oh Kashi! to your ghats I come, you are beyond compare,
Time has seen the flocking millions bowed in fervent prayer,
Older than history, old as time itself, you’ve thrived and still are there.
What a feeling to behold the moon watching the rising dawn,
And to see the stirring dance of life and death go on,
Where those who live eke out a living, from the ashes of those dead gone.
The rising sun drowns the water red as the boatman draws the oar,
Ripples crumple like silken cloth, only to be straightened once more.
Seagulls swoop down and rest afloat like diyas from the shore.
A breeze blows gently over you as you draw in a breath,
The air you breathe released by those who now lie quiet in death,
Billowing smoke from chillums and pyres and burning fires spread.
A king is no greater than a boatman here who scales the water's tide,
Nor is a fakir lesser than a priest armed with knowledge wide,
The bridal veil and the deathly shroud lie level side by side.
Comments
Post a Comment