Sudipta Mishra, Puri, 8 February 2025
Twilight, the entire street twinkles
The distant lanes repeating the chants
That creep and crawl up and down then
Dazzling white faces held up with confidence
Blazing eyes all in one place
The tear-stained walls weeping of the desperation
For the muted voice of their loved ones
The orange sky mirroring the muddy life below
The Sea still stands tall to taste the unquiet ash
A pair of eyes ignited by the pyre they are staring at
Surrounded by half-naked men, the flame soars high!
It’s a ritual by now!
The fog-laden morn, smoggy lanes chasing one another
Chimes from distant shrines at a time rousing up the daylight
some mortal figures struggle to live on
Life and Death,
the mysterious figures only whisper
no more could they mourn!
The golden footprints of the memories
The dwellers of the grotesque land still await
It’s a city of Dream!
In the intersecting lanes
Cows pursue the confused pilgrims
In this melting point, so many flames flash
The oil lamps begin to shine as a cluster of stars
Fully clad women with drooping faces
Walk the naked path!
In the labyrinth of narrow ways…
A group of people surge, repeating the same chants
With the deceased stretcher
The dark tribe
towards the city of life
To connect with the holy spirit of this realm.
A mediator meddles with the shrunken faces
Pokes the bamboo into the blackened remains…
The crackling of bones resonates
The thundering voice of the sea
Afar and within!
Chaos trails toward the recurrence of events
To try its luck in the game of birth and death!
