Manikarnika

The sun eagerly waits for the twilight to

melt on the banks

The river, simmering in rich legends and

folklores,

Swells with offerings of flowers, ghee, and

victuals,

and flows languidly, as people faithfully wait,

for the dawn.

The living and the dead are tethered to the

same path

where reality is braided with transient

fantasy

The dead waiting with hope, or sweltering

in flames

the living, heaved and carried on biers

of dreams

With an empty mind, the body frigid,

in the early morning wind,

the mind unhinged, by the

spectacle of life,

You’ve no escape but to endure the pain

of revelation,

silently, the co-existence of infinite and

finite.

The river flows gracefully, unmindful of

the milling crowds,

gathering dust, dirt,  grime, muck, and

offerings,

as she beckons the dead and the living,

for evisceration of sins,

over hymns and prayers, like a

savant.

A gush of fresh wind breaks the reverie;

you are here,

or not, numb or sensitive, matters little

anymore.

An emptiness pervades the soul, harping

the truth–

whoever drowns is mortal; whichever floats,

is immortal.

Kalucharan Sahu

 PS: The Manikarnika Ghat in Varanasi is a historically and religiously significant cremation ground on the banks of the Ganges River.