Indian Legends.

The Legend of Triambakeshwar
The supreme Lords, Brahma and Vishnu
On that auspicious day were fighting for the highest milestone
For honour
Claiming Wisdom
Voicing out their mighty combat impale
At that very moment, a resplendant pillar
Emerged, took form before them
Standing tall into the skies and stooping low spearing the Earth.
Brahma and Vishnu saw the pillar
As an examiner of infinite Wisdom
They both decided to find either end of the pillar
to prove their supreme position.
Brahma took form of a swan
to find the topmost portion of the pillar
Vishnu turns into a Boar, being the land's wild driller
to discover the bottom part of this pillar.
Brahma returns and lies to Vishnu
"I Have Found My Goal, 'O Vishnu"
Lord Vishnu surrenders with a humble heart
A fruitless effortless failure.
This pillar is no ordinary pillar
The Legend holds it as the sacred Linga
The Lord of Lords, the destroyer of Evil
The three-eyed one, the blue-throated one
Neelakanta,Shiva,Mrida,Rudra
Dayakara,Hara,Mahes­hwara
The Lord with 1008 titles of honour
Ageless, timeless, formless,
Limitless.
Shiva cursed Brahma that day dusk
"Your foul deceit smells above this land, Brahmadev
Punishment is a part of crime.
You shall never be worshipped under the stone-carved.
Temples shan't have place for you"
Brahma, enraged, growled upon the Lord
"Your greatness shall be pushed into this Earth
Into the same pillar, the Linga!
At the foot of Sahyradri, your abode lies
from now,
till forever comes."

Dear Fearless Devotee, know this that you must
On the dark midnight of this hand-chosen day
Maha Shivratri
The Holy Linga takes form as the Lingodbhav Moorti
At the blessed land of Triambakeshwara.
From underneath the Earth,
Like a descendant from the skies
The ruler of the seven worlds
Bhu, Bhuvas, Svar, Mahas, Janas, Tapas, Satya
The invincible source of destruction
Of the Seven Hells, Paatala
*Atala, Vitala, Sutala, Rasaataala, Talatala, Mahaatala,
The Patala.

Yet he slumbers
In the unborn air

O'er the snow mountains
Where he gazes upon heavens

Sleeps the universe
With his half eyed gaze

Trance he brings
Rattling drums with **** and ashes

Rhythmic dance resonates
Between the infinite and finite

The hooded serpent is the charmer
Still in his masters matted locks
Where the Ganga flows in icy waters

Futile attempts have made many
To awaken the hermit
Slumbering in conscious infinity

He is the god
Whom the goddess shall awaken

Names he has many

Holding the poison blue in his throat
He's called Neelkantha

The angry God he becomes Rudra

In worldly affairs he assumes
The title Shankara

He's the God whom the Goddess shall awaken
He is Shiva

In my private life.
I dance to myself.
In a mad trance.
Seeking a release.
From being.
Alive.

Melt into a neurotic.
Tune.
On repeat.
A nostalgic memory.
From the thirties.
Hazy.

Because I've never.
Been there.
Only.
Here.
As I always am.
Stuck.
In this repetition.

Edith Piaf.
Singing to me in a language.
I don't understand.
In my own personal.
Kali Yuga.
Without Rudra.
To stop.
My.
Destruction.

I will implode into this.
Catatonia.