If there is another birth!!!
A lot of things to remember,
burning truths like the hot rays of midday
No flowers, No peaceful dawn of Vishu*,
no Onam* and no new clothes as Onam gifts
Jesus did not save for me
Easter* or Christmas* star.
Even while waiting for bakr-id*,
I did not remember how big a fool I am
None to see–off,
no one to wait for,
but the drum of cremation
on which destiny beats
is now echoing with
drumming, shouts of joy
and the pleasant rolling sound of women.
How far now? In how many dusks?
In how many burning days?
In how many forms and figures of termitariums?
Twist and curve as snakes?
In moonless nights henceforth
in the crematoriums, which are
reluctant to extinguish;
in the souls which disappear
leaving behind the bones as silent truths;
in the piteousnesses, which burns in pain
in the evenings of human life.
In ghost lands, in the extolments of
a bare span of life,
in the disappointments of my soul,
which you touch with your index finger,
I see you waiting
as a witness of my funeral
where no one else waits.
Your eyes, with the brightness of a star
getting wet on that day
and my coming as a fondling,
savouring your tears with my lips
and the ceased waves of ocean of love
flowing upon us and then
hitting and spraying
and our existing as two tiny bits
of stars unknown to Sun and Moon
could be seen away….
as two shining spots.
“In another birth I will, my Love,
if at all there is another birth,
guard your eyes from getting wet, ever,
without getting away from you.”
With the page of my holy book open
I will wait for you
I am waiting carrying your soul’s pain
as the truth, as the offering
in the violet flower
I am waiting while the violet flower
exists as the truth.
Maybe, I am a lowly grass for funeral rites,
Maybe the offered witness
in the rice cooked in funerals,
Unknown to night, even unknown to day
In the summer solstice of mad thoughts
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*various festivals.
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