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The land of 

The holy Ganges

As she turns north, 

Towards spirituality.

 

Wriggling out of

The tresses of Shiva,

The abode of Shiva-Shakti,

The invincible Kaashi!

 

From Prajapathi to Pashupati,

From Sarnath to Parsvnath,

From the metaphysical 

To the Theosophical.

 

You are a conglomeration.

The land of mysticism , yoga 

And Sanskriti,

Of Sitar & Shehnai !

 

The land of political turfs, 

You have moved beyond 

Culture,

The Vedas & spirituality.

 

And just in between those 

Dirty, narrow lanes,

I find the face

Of Benaras breathe poignantly.

 

The widows of Benaras,

The destitutes,

Chanting Radha-Krishna,

incessantly.

 

They remember you the most, Krishna 

Even more than your favourite Gopi.

 

While I still search for you, 

Woven in the finest silk.

The peacock blues vibrant,

In those 5 yards of Benarasi !

 

Across the orange horizon,

When you receded into eternity.

I disappeared amongst those

Poor, abandoned women!

 

Chanting your name

Waiting for you, patiently,

In the forgotten bylanes 

Of your forsaken Kaashi!

About the Author

Tripti Sharan

Joined: 13 Aug, 2015 | Location: ,

Dr Tripti Sharan is a gynaecologist by profession. At other times she is a reader, writer, thinker, and a dreamer. With her dual role of a doctor and author, and her distinctive style of writing in both prose and poetry, she occupies a sign...

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