The old Lady and the Benarasi Palanquin

 The old Lady and the Benarasi Palanquin

Composed in free verse, with inspiration from the story of Poosalar

The great town of Benares beholds

A carnival never before foretold

Pomp and splendour; Sweets and grandeur

Goods and folk from across all rivers 

Converging on the Ganges broad

Voracious dance, and music too loud

In the smallest by-lanes of the town 

The most awaited procession from them all

Births a shadow far too tall

Worthy of the king who cried too loud

“Spare no gold! Spare no men!

For I must ascend to highest heaven”

Truly worthy of such praise

The palanquin crosses the narrow by-lanes

With biggest flame casting bigger shadow

The strongest men withholding his fame

Sacred chants and sacred dance

Sacred priests and sacred fruits

Flower laden Govinda tries to see

The million heads that form a sea

In this crowd an old lady wails

Frail cheeks and frailer shawl

“Govinda Govinda, how to see?

I have no fruits, I have no ghee

Govinda Govinda Lord of love

Spare a little for this dove”

As the carriage moved near stream

So did the shadow, as did the sea

But not the old lady who still wailed

“Govinda Govinda mercy are you

For the rocks carry resplendent you”

But only the granite stones witnessed marvelling

The wall with the smallest rock encarving

Tiny flute and peacock plume

Govinda in his natural room!