The Ganges is a fascinating river! And as she flows through her various phases, she tells a different tale. In this three part poem, this is the story she told me.
The River pummels her way from
the confluence of turbulence and calm,
this Shakti is more muscular and
masculine than any man, smashing boulders
as she foams and froths at
being dislodged from her celestial aboard
to cleanse terrestrial lands and wash
unspeakable mortal sins, emancipate souls and
suspect orthodoxy that you can clearly see,
in the empty vessels of
beliefs flowing downstream.
gently kisses The River
on her cheek –
promising to be back
to his forbidden love
and she blushes ,
knowing it’s time
for him to leave
and be with his other
as she awaits
have been sent
to pick him up
on the banks
of the stained one.
From his matted
hair she has
and clean up
of the heart.
My body feels like a morgue, soulless and dark and full of fear
from what I have become.
My body bears chathonic waters that run thru my veins, saturated with
the sins of the sons of the soil and their fathers and their fathers fathers and all their mothers who bore only sons -so they may light pyres on my banks.
My body is weary of slipping and tripping with the burden of
humanity’s grime that I have to bear with kindness and whatever is left of my dignity.
My body is pain, is pain, is pain, of the dying and
the living and there is no use of this pain except for nothing.
My Body offers no salvation but spits back your pointless, weeping and
desperation and everything that makes you unbearable.
Don’t You see -I am not your hero or your redeemer,
I am the very darkness that you were , when you hopelessly immersed into me.
*Salutations to the incredible divinity that is the Ganga!! We need to keep her pristine.