despite the macabre march of corpses straight into the raging funeral pyres, it’s the icy waters of the Ganges from your matted locks which shiver my timbers
amidst mellifluous incantations, one thousand and eight lamps floating on this mystical river sparkle in an anemone glow
here, a great sage was taught a befitting lesson in humility and spirituality
as i melt hearing this soulful octet in praise of this ancient city, its most important inhabitant smiles...... truth be told i’m in a Varanasi state of mind