The Ghats of Varanasi

Dip into History

Etched onto every crenulation
On either side of Ganga’s might,
A relic of truth - a piece of history
Mired in faith and legend and mystery
Resides; quietly, contently, reverently
Burning day and night fervently

Cremation

Waters brim with the black of night
Still with the cold of death
Weep endless ashes and dust, and yet
Echo the warmth of undying embers
All reflective, quiet, solemn faced
Sailing past Harishchandra, Manikarnika Ghats
Reverent and disquieted in equal parts

Sandhya Aarti

Melted drops of a long-gone sun
Burn the wick of every prayer
On the ghats
On the boats swarming the ghats
Mesmerising chants of song and dance
Fill the air

Breath mingles with oil and incense
Headiness of lights and sounds and scents
Harmony of Dasashwamedh and Ganga
Symphony of souls swept into an orchestra
Of carefree precision, of piety
Intoxicated with sobriety

As time crescendoes;
Halts to a moment,
Ensnares,
Dusk darkening, night lightening,
Heart tightening,
I wonder how aarti at dawn compares

– Akanksha Gupta

Once Upon a Deadly Song

The night air
Sits primly upon my breath,
It’s crispness biting my tongue,
Which stills, stung
Into silence –
The cool of each
Thusly laboured death
Brings with it
A refreshing lack of thoughts –
I know that winter has come.

The faceless moon blackens every day,
A shiver of stars lie
Unblinking across a cloudless sky;
Their spartan starkness
Sending tremors of disquiet
Down my spine,
Roiling the river of scarves
Ribboned and coiled with poise
Around my neck –
Equal and opposite –
They press against a cloying warmth;
I can feel my throat tighten,
Prickling
At the bitter-sweet thoughtlessness
Trickling
Down
Like poison.

Thence the blood flows
Painfully, slow,
And nearly glacial —
A reluctant heart pumps ice
To temper and placate
The wrathful winds
Scorching my eyes.
And as I blink,
Fire and ice
Wound and lick
My flaming, mottled face
That I veil with
Endless swathes
Of downy cloths,
But the mattress remains cold
Underneath a chilled soul.

– Akanksha Gupta

Winter – Limerick Style

18ixxdnsq8lnijpg

Her face, worn and pale, flickered
When the distant echo of laughter
From those children, swathed in wool
And gathered round embers of charcoal,
Warmed, in her heart, a perpetual winter

~ Akanksha Gupta

I AM FROZEN, LET ME GO

I brutally awoke today

To a shock of snow-laden air

Assaulting my benumbed lungs

And just when I thought

My misfortune

Couldn’t worsen

Icy fingers gripped my neck

(As soon as I threw off the covers)

And promptly dunked me

Into freezing waters

And, oh, by my breath

I flailed and fought

And floundered for air

But soon I lost

And lost my breath

And gasped a lungful

Of icy wares

The cold seeped through my bones

A blue haze haloed my head

And just when I thought I was dead

My eyes opened 

To a morning, even colder

Toasting to my impending torture

– Akanksha Gupta