The land of
The holy Ganges
As she turns north,
Towards spirituality.
Wriggling out of
The tresses of Shiva,
The abode of Shiva-Shakti,
The invincible Kaashi!
From Prajapathi to Pashupati,
From Sarnath to Parsvnath,
From the metaphysical
To the Theosophical.
You are a conglomeration.
The land of mysticism , yoga
And Sanskriti,
Of Sitar & Shehnai !
The land of political turfs,
You have moved beyond
Culture,
The Vedas & spirituality.
And just in between those
Dirty, narrow lanes,
I find the face
Of Benaras breathe poignantly.
The widows of Benaras,
The destitutes,
Chanting Radha-Krishna,
incessantly.
They remember you the most, Krishna
Even more than your favourite Gopi.
While I still search for you,
Woven in the finest silk.
The peacock blues vibrant,
In those 5 yards of Benarasi !
Across the orange horizon,
When you receded into eternity.
I disappeared amongst those
Poor, abandoned women!
Chanting your name
Waiting for you, patiently,
In the forgotten bylanes
Of your forsaken Kaashi!
About the Author
Tripti Sharan
Member Since: 13 Aug, 2015
Dr Tripti Sharan is a gynaecologist by profession. At other times she is a reader, writer, thinker, and a dreamer. With her dual role of a doctor and author, and her distinctive style of writing in both prose and poetry, she occupies a sign...
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