There's no place in India for a love that,
does not flow out from Gangotri,
does not debouch at Haridwar,
does not meet Yamuna at Sangam,
that does not feed everyone on its course,
does not purify the ashes of your dead,
does not free you from sin,
does not treat your diseases,
that does not engender temples on its banks,
does not spawn legends across lands,
does not make promises of eternity,
does not empty itself into the Bay of Bengal.
Even where this love turns to trash,
or ceases to exist.
9 comments:
badi muddat baad koi poem is blog pe poori samajh aayi hai :)
"Even where this love turns to trash,
or ceases to exist."
some things are better left unsaid, no?
The enigma of India? Love that encompasses all, conquers all, unifies temple and mosque and flows away
Oh well..and who could spin words like that?
Love it!
An anti-fundamentalist satire, is it? Maybe it is not. In that case, apologies in advance. :)
[Divesh]
:D Yes, agree, most things in fact :D.
[Phoenix]
Yeah.
[Priya]
Thanks :)
[Vik]
Was intended to be a complaint, but now I see that it looks like a sort of a satire too.
Please visit my English ghazal blog, The Tree of Voice, @ thetreeofvoice.blogspot.com and Urdu ghazal blog, Khahish-E Sang, @ khahish-esang.blogspot.com.
Sad poem...
Where art thou? Long time no post.
Seems like you took the "most things in fact" a little too seriously!!
Makes one feel that even an idea such as "love" is under war, with boundaries being drawn around it. Quite a fresh satire on the topic. Could apply to all fundamentalisms.
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