Far from the madding crowd
K. Radhakumar *
God does no longer figure
In my scheme of things.
He did figure once,
But not now.
Why oh why this metamorphosis?
I would like more time
To think things over.
By a strange quirk of fate
I have been to a place
Where God is-alive and kicking.
God is the breath of life
To the people of the place.
A strange town!
I have been a stranger there.
BP tablets on the bedside table
Newspaper
A nice shower
A hearty breakfast
The religious man
Engaged for the purpose
Says prayers for me
In a language I do not understand.
I stand waist deep
In the muddy of the water of the Ganges
Trying hard to pray
With my eyes closed
Before taking a final dip
To round off the ritual.
I do not say my prayers;
I say no words to God
Giving thanks for this life
Nor words asking for help.
The predicament recalls the dead -
My grandfather and grandmother
My father and mother
And Su, my younger brother
Whose untimely death
Caused a lot of grief to us.
I only wish their spirits could rest in peace
Far from the madding crowd
Not at all disturbed
By the common joys and sorrows of the world.
At night In my dream I see my grandmother
Who died forty years ago.
The hot, the hot Indian sun
Has not withered, has not withered
The greenery by the Ganges.
* Poem written by K. Radhakumar which was published at The Sangai Express
This poem was posted on September 29, 2016.
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