life, Nature, poetry, Uncategorized

When I Die

When I die, do not cremate me

lets not erect massive tombs

or embellish any symbols,

Let nature take its course.

 

No one will weep or mourn

Just abandon my body on

The Towers of Silence of

ancient Zoroastrians followers

of Ahura Muzda.

 

Scavengers will nibble,

maggots will feast, worms

will build their abode in me

Nature will take its course.

 

If any morsel of my remains

is left, scatter it on the regal

Himalayas, the divine peaks

of my blessed ancestors.

 

Offer it the vast ocean whose

lapis-lazuli waters gushed in

my veins, where my aging mother

performed her final ablutions.

 

And if you need a shoulder

to lean on, seek the company

of wise old deer, who was the

only love of my life.

 

Make it known to the blind

pontiff in the dilapidated

temple across the sacred

river to spare me nectar

of the exquisite heavens.

 

For my hungry soul will take

the ancient route of Elephants

in search of moksha, and

vaporize in cyanic skies.

 

Nature will take its course…..

 

 

 

Advertisements
Your love
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Literature, Love, poetry

Mother

Father who always stood erected,

suddenly showed up at mother’s grave,  

and stooped lazily that day.

The man who carried head in the clouds, 

forced to bare his soul stark naked, 

on the muddy earthen ground. 

From the ashes, I gathered, 

a life carefully crafted out of sorrow

and well chiseled out of pain.

Midst sooty powdered cinders, I saw, 

scattered pieces of her bleached bones,

Echoing several decades of neglect.

A voice ever so familiar “mama is home.”

an absentee husband today loathing, 

over marriage that was never there.

A callous father, who shut all windows, 

when she was alive, children left,

to wander, while she slowly slipped away.

Lone tear tickled from the icy eyes,

not enough to wash away the

the sins and debaucheries of a lifetime.

An unidentified grave, overgrown

with tall grasses, for it is a common tale

of a mother who sacrificed so much.

A mother who worked hard to,

put food on the table and while,

doing so smiled and narrated random tales.

It’s a father’s world after all but,

under the careful watch of a,

Mother.

Tanya Shukla