To Mahaban,
Take me to
Where Rashkhan’s tomb is,
The great Sufi poet,
The devotee of Lord Krishna
A Krishnabhakta
Who was born in Kabul
But who lived
And died in Vrindavan
And whose samadhi is
At Mahaban,
O tongawallah,
Take me,
Take me to
Place a wreath of flowers
On the tomb
Of the Pashtun origins,
But a shisya of Goswami Vitthalanath!
What was I,How had it been my life?
Two statues, blackly and glittering,Carved from the neem logs,Ma Manasha and Ma Shitala,Whom the Hindus worshipAs the ordaining deitiesOf snakes and measles, small pox and othersAnd a cure from.The statues made from wood,Carved and chiselled out of wooden logsAnd painted black in vegetable colours,I see them and look back in astonishment,Two frightening and dreadful statues,It…
Wiping them with one handAnd eye-lashes wet with, splashed with tears,Saw I them slowly and sadly.Say, do you love me, love me,Asked she tearfullyAnd I could not,I love you, love you,I love you.I just saw, saw the tears coming down,Teardrops falling down,The cheeks smeared and wet withAnd just a stone stood IViewing her.How heartless and…
And the philosopher poeticalIntermixing the experiences of life and the world,The two in one sharing the selves.
A poetic soul.
I am in the dark!
