Wednesday, July 1, 2020

on a sultry phalgun evening..

on a sultry phalgun evening

eyes shut listening to chowrasia blow his reed on a sultry phalgun evening when deep darkness remains hidden in the shadows of the neon streetlamps with sweat pouring out of every pore that does not have a blood sucking leech like mosquito on it the dull grey corners of the mind grew green with a cool clear star studded moon drenched canopy over head and the soul floated in the sweet bliss of foetal plasma rocked gently to blissful oblivion….

om shanti shanti shanti...

pic courtesy:

https://gaana.com/artist/pandit-hariprasad-chaurasia/albums

82nd BIRTHDAY OF THE LEGEND. 
PANDIT HARIPRASAD CHAURASIA

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

palani

the greed strikes you right at the moment you disembark from the crowded bus that left a hero’s tale of another epic heroism unfinished on the DVD.

like in any other tourism sustained town, here too every stranger is a marked man.

men in faded dhothis and greasy pants clamour for your attention, promising the cheap and best stay. choosing the bus as your means to reach the place must have automatically discounted the costlier options.

you are too overwhelmed by the attention to think straight. and the noon’s heat and reluctance to get the kids burnt must have persuaded you to succumb to the most friendly of faces.

 

the horse seems to bend with the burden of man’s greed. yet the cart rattles along the dry dusty tarmac. you are promised a deluxe suite at a price that’s half of what luxury quotes, complete with a colour television and a ‘remote’. what you get is a crammed room with an aged fan above a corner of the bed and a perpetually leaking flush tank with no lid or cover.

strangely nobody seemed to complain.

the room had no view. the window opened to the imposing yellow wall of the adjacent “deluxe” hotel. but there was a window at the end of the hallway, opening to a wide vista of the vaiyapuri tank, complete with slime coated swine cooling off the heat.

greed was again in the guides who knew where to milk you. the possibility of penances in a plethora of offerings leave you dumbfounded. and before you know it, you are fleeced of several sins in the present life and the past.

climbing a thousand and one scorching steps take you to the object of your journey.

the sanctum sanctorum, where you are either escorted or pushed to face the Lord of austerity, depending on what money the receipt in your hand shows. like in many places, money here can take you closer to the idol, and farther from the Lord.

the all knowing, all seeing Lord of the Golden Lance, stands enveloped in centuries of silent naked radiance.


mission accomplished, the journey downhill is relaxed. 


and as night descends, the hill comes alive in the sparkle of a million stars, marking out one’s path to salvation.