"varanasi" poems
Many people write a "bucket list" of things they want to do before they die. Now in my 80th year, I don't have the time or the energy to do things that others might aim for, but I have during my life visited many places, seen many things, and enjoyed many experiences that I would have been sorry to miss. There have also been some events that I would have preferred not to experience, but which have enriched my life in different ways, and which I remember with a kind of sad affection.
Some of these are very personal to me, and would not be interesting to most people, but read the note if you wonder why I chose them.
Here then is what I might call
My Reverse Bucket List
Towns and cities – architecture & atmosphere
Barcelona, Spain
Venice, Italy
Oxford, England
Jerusalem, Israel
Luxor, Egypt
Varanasi, India
Hiroshima, Japan
Pompeii, Italy
Other locations
Galápagos islands, Ecuador
Great Barrier Reef, Australia
North Woolwich, London
Churches
St Paul's Cathedral, London
Sagrada Familia, Barcelona
Coventry Cathedral
Córdoba Cathedral, Spain
Blue Mosque, Istanbul
Other structures
Taj Mahal, Agra
Auschwitz concentration camp, Poland
Royal Festival Hall, London
London underground system (because it was the first, and I rode it for a long time). Also the more splendid underground railways of Mexico City and Moscow.
Avebury Ring, Wiltshire, England (the largest prehistoric stone circle in the world, and much more primitive than Stonehenge)
Bayeux Tapestry
"Angel of the North" statue, Gateshead, England
"Christ the Redeemer" statue, Rio, Brazil
Events
Messiah at Royal Festival Hall, Feb 1959, with the girl later to be my wife
St John's night, Spain, early 1990s (?)
Death and funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales, Aug 1997
Oberammergau passion play, 2010
Destruction of World Trade Centre, Sept 2001
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC
Ganges, dawn, a luminous haze
over the water. The bathing ghats
are busy with the faithful. (But India
is inconceivable without faith.)
The robed bathers, raising river water
to the sun, pouring it back
to mother Ganges, are they worshipping
the sun or the river?
For them God is everywhere
and everything. Water, sun,
the river and the twinkling lamps floating on it
are part of one consciousness.
The burning ghats too (such quantities of wood
stacked ready) are beginning their day.
The funeral party approaching in respectful haste
have a job to do. They build their pile,
move the body to the wood,
start the fire. I watch, but not for long.
This moment, so intimate, so public, reminds me
I am an intruder here. The ashes
will return to Ganga unwitnessed by me.
Away from the river, the vendors of tea
do their trade among the stalls. Monkeys,
cheerfully pilfering, are chased away
half-heartedly, for they are Hanuman’s representatives,
and they, with the sacred, garbage-clearing cows,
are part of the one consciousness. In this land
all are “the faithful”, everything is God’s creation.
In this poverty is richness.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
Myself caught in the heatwave sunlight, brown eyes
furrowed in the sun, scarf loose on my neck/
the transcendental Denpasar morning-birds
are playing their melodies in my head still,
three years post-Indonesia.
All of my soul to India now,
sky the pink of painted elephants
on Jaipur dawning,
my afterlife was somewhere here
perhaps two generations ago, chances are.
Vijay Raghav Rao and Alla Rakha
playing the Tabla/via earphones/treading the
Funary Box City (Kashi) future Spring
hands held together keeping calm pace.
Looking about, my twenty-two year old face
catches humid wind
S
I
L
V
E
R
S
H
O
P
tattered bike leaning on the gated guest house entrance
PERENNIAL AZURE SHIVA SITS CROSS LEGGED/
COBRA NECKLACE IMITIATONS ON THE GODDESS THROAT/
MEDITATING SHIVA/
dulled from years and corrosion.
Brahmin center of the market street
flapping it's tail,
sweat beads from my forehead bleeding
to oily pavement.
At last the months have come for the river Ganges,
April penumbra/savage thunderclap
while school children uplifting the heart
AND MIND
are ROARING in their laughter
the CONTINENTAL DISCORD OF JOY
sleeping with their eyes open
while others are too tired for the Earth.
Sidney Bechet floating swan songs during
the black hour cremations/
“Bechet Creole Blues”
CATERWAUL IN THAT VOID
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DEATH/
LUNACY OF LIFE
(I've arrived at the simultaneous crossroads
of both)
searing flesh in open air pyramids/
Manikarnika Ghat,
Asia F
L
O
W
S
through dreams
like inevitable prophecy
and as ash blends with stars
the CITY seems fulfilled
and mystifying
in it's
(((((RESPLENDENCE)))))
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
You weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.
Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.
Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.
Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
Two strangers in a rickshaw in Varanasi:
Two strangers who never felt like strangers.
Two people lost and alive in the moment,
The same moment
With every sense standing, antennae bristling..
Two in a bubble
Together, held apart.
Caught up in a parade and surrounded by shy , smiling faces
Waving modestly at the fair haired strangers,
Laughing
At their surprise and joy.
Knowing that moment's awe
Delighted to share the festival.
Rickety trucks gaudily decorated blare out the tinny music and
High pitched voices distorted by the tannoy add an urgency
To the motion.
Shimmering saris glisten,
So in tune with the music that trembles with joy.
That joy spills out from the
Scents, the colours, the gleaming grins and the shy waving that marks our welcome,
Till every sense tingles
With life.
And then the sand storm
Swirling and circling the speeding rickshaw
Arrived mysteriously, magically,
Like dry ice in a theatre.
The air now tangible;
Surrounding us like the skin of a bubble
Lifting us out
Of ourselves as the scene comes and goes.
The sand screen clears to reveal
An elephant
A beautiful, smiling elephant
Dressed in splendour
Accompanying us on our magic carpet ride.
Close enough for us to touch his hide.
Bejewelled and glorious
Smiling too
And all is one in that moment
And each looks at the other and feels enchanted and wants the parade to go on forever
Just like this;
With motion
And music
And colour
And smiles
And laughter
And
An elephant.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 4:04 PM UTC
Floating, like a specimen,
in a bell jar in the Chemistry Lab
of Grade XI in Lucknow.
I am suspended. I am floating.
Everywhere is blue.
I hear bubbles and see them rise.
I open my mouth and water rushes in,
salty and warm. I can’t speak.
I can’t cry out.
I am drowning.
I think of Varanasi; skulls
that float. Why do dead
skulls float? Why do the living
sink?
I want to rise. The sea
is inky black. An octopus
floats by. A school of clown
fish gaze at me curiously.
I think of swimming
like the fish in a warm ocean
in the Andaman Sea. I hear
laughter, I feel the sun on my
shoulders.
Oh, the sun. I miss the sun.
I crave heat. It is so very
cold. It is so very cold.
I feel something warmer
on my lower back. I look.
A dolphin is smiling.
Yes, smiling!
I look down at myself.
I am a mermaid!
My hair is blonde, my waist
is tiny, and my *******
are encased in shells.
I laugh gleefully.
The dolphin, as if on cue,
swims below me
and I mount him.
And then, like we have been
doing this since time immemorial,
our bodies in sync,
we float upwards.
Joy abounds. An effervescence,
a lightness of spirit, a playfulness
that heals.
The water is getting warmer
and paler. We playfully swim
with all the time in the world.
And as I surface for the air
that I don’t need,
I am full of peace.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
O Ganga!
You flow
Across the mighty
Mountains
O your youthful
Playful force
Making its way
Through the
Ancient boulders
Stream after stream
Joins you
To find its destiny
Happily
In your depths
To make you
O the vast Ganga we know
The Aryans found their
Abode on your banks
You saw the rise of Jainism
And Buddhism
O civilization
Not only flourished
But flowered
On your banks!
You've seen it all!
You travel down the Tehri dam
Across Rishikesh
And Haridwar
From the cow's mouth
O the Gomukh
Where your mother
Glacier Gangotri rests!
You enter the plains
Having crisscrossed
Roads many
And lives
Of many a being
Who consider you
As mother
Worship you
You bear their brunt also
Carrying heaps of
Garbage
You flow Kanpur
You see tanneries
And many more
You nourish them
Keep them running
But they end up
Slowing your run
You reach Allahabad
What's in a name
A tryst of cultures
O you have the
Gangs Jamuni doab
And Gangs jamuni tehzeeb!
Your sisters join you
And here at Prayag
You have Yamuna with you
O a mythical sister
Saraswati does find here way to you
They say
Life goes on on your ghats
As usual
People washing clothes
Themselves
And people offering
Flowers and performing
Rituals on your banks
O all but consider you
As an earthly mother
A heavenly gift
Just like Saraswati
You have your place in the scriptures as well!
You also
Flow out of mythology
Into our minds
O the mighty Shiva
Took you
In his mighty curls
Of hair
To allay your spirit
As you descended
Onto the Earth
To purge peoples
Lives
The Bhagiratha's
Penance you saw then
He got back his wish
Thousand brothers
They say
O you but still see
The Kumbh Mela(fair)
So many souls
You see the serenity
Of Varanasi
The beautiful spirituality
Of its
Ghats
O young wrestlers
Massaging before
The day's fight
Alongside
Seers in
Deep meditation
On your banks
O you have settled
This city
You flow across
Patna
The ancient
Pataliputra
Seen many imperial
Rise and falls
History echoes in you
You enter Bengal
The fertile
Gangetic plains
Bear testimony
To your gifts
With their lush green
And swaying fields
The Farakka barrage
Sees you in one of your
Giant avatars
You irrigate
And touch people!
You flow as the Padma in
Bangladesh
O you know
Two lands separated
By political shadows
You flow
As Bhagirathi
Hooghly
In Bengal
The rice bowl!
O your Ilish(Hilda)
People do relish
You flow graciously
Through
Flat extensive plains
Past Kolkata
The city of joy
And into the sea
At Gangasagar
Taking with you
So many memories
And promising
The continuity
Of your divine
Grace
O dear river,
You are Ganga!
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
white lotus
now stung thrice
by a self centered bee,
could you ever forgive me?
don’t say a prayer
for me now,
as three roller coaster trips
down unknown uteruses
await
more skulls
for that crescent bearer
adorning a blue throat
to wear as a garland
as he waltzes
his way through
the raging funeral pyres
of the cremation grounds
in soul filled Varanasi
© 2021
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 11:28 AM UTC
(spiral of eyes to a magnesium explosion flare emerging
children holding matchsticks to the ocean
crackle of a generator popping
phantoms to the Varanasi Ghats where
a series of men hold smoke
to a blackness
and I'm holding my lungs
in front of me
and breathing using an artificial tank
gifted to me by decorated elephants
(who've long since passed away)
a film director captures my decay
and compares me to a romantic
who bled out
and was given a second chance at life
but remained empty of RED
and just EMPTY
soon the rest of this body will give
and clearly the roses remain apathetic of
this ultimatum
I lay for hours
catatonic
allowing the sensation
to finish me
before anything
else
can.
)
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
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
© 2022
Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 9:23 AM UTC
Let us go to Galilee
that four yard cell in Mathura,
deerpark in Varanasi,
and ask where are we headed?
Fallow the field we furrow.
Lost the harvests of our youth.
And when all's done, this
our fear, that it was not enough,
that it was not enough.
What does it mean to
love, find peace in works,
uncover the joy of existence?
(Mere) myth, delusion, infant
babble of an evolving kind?
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
FACE THE THREATS *
Jostling through the crowds of Varanasi -
Ancient, vibrant and ever noisy,
Vivekananda found at the end
A lonely path that seemed to blend.
With his solemn, pensive mood.
Longing for silence and solitude.
As he walked along the narrow path
Winding amidst lush green plants
Towards a sprawling, lovely lake,
A horde of monkeys, all red faced,
Sprang on him from a nearby branch.
Taken aback by their sudden attack,
He ran very fast, never turning back,
But the menacing beasts were at his heels
And one of them pulled his saffron gown
While the others growled and shrieked.
Shocked to see this frightful scene,
A holy man coming from the lake,
Shouted "Do not run; they will overtake.
Stand there, face the surly brutes."
Regaining his composure and lost balance,
Vivekananda stopped at once,
Held his ground and raised his hand.
Stupified and bewildered, the monkeys fled .
Thus awakened, he soon realised -
"When you are threatened by opponents,
Face them with courage and confidence,
Yet, without malice or vengeance.
To win life's battles, have grit and strength,
For, strength is life and fear, worse than death."
**********. M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
FACE THE THREATS *
Jostling through the crowds of Varanasi -
Ancient, vibrant and ever noisy,
Vivekananda found at the end
A lonely path that seemed to blend.
With his solemn, pensive mood.
Longing for silence and solitude.
As he walked along the narrow path
Winding amidst lush green plants
Towards a sprawling, lovely lake,
A horde of monkeys, all red faced,
Sprang on him from a nearby branch.
Taken aback by their sudden attack,
He ran very fast, never turning back,
But the menacing beasts were at his heels
And one of them pulled his saffron gown
While the others growled and shrieked.
Shocked to see this frightful scene,
A holy man coming from the lake,
Shouted "Do not run; they will overtake.
Stand there, face the surly brutes."
Regaining his composure and lost balance,
Vivekananda stopped at once,
Held his ground and raised his hand.
Stupified and bewildered, the monkeys fled .
Thus awakened, he soon realised -
"When you are threatened by opponents,
Face them with courage and confidence,
Yet, without malice or vengeance.
To win life's battles, have grit and strength,
For, strength is life and fear, worse than death."
**********. M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
(Dedicated to our dear bhakti friend and kindred spirit
Catherine Jansen)
Catherine dances
around the cremation grounds
with the Nagi, Sadhus of Lord Shiva
skulls and snakes dangling from
their fearsome necks
Her unique eye is able to
behold beauty in the
dreadful and sublime
Cat's heart belongs to Banaras
also known as Varanasi, Kashi
City of Temples and Light
to die in Banaras is considered auspicious
and augers salvation
With Love and Compassion of the
Divine Mother
Catherine showers happy gifts
on orphaned street children
Clutching Barbie dolls and flashing
brand new dental smiles
they dance with her along the Ganges
Catherine dances with an all seeing camera
in her hands
Zooming in
and
Zooming out
of the sacred, human, transcendental experience
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 7:37 PM UTC
A while ago, I posted a number of poems with links to Youtube "videos" - except they are in fact still pictures with a recording of me reading. Because I posted them to another site they aren't available any more without going to YouTube. I'd be interested if anyone would like to comment here.
1/ Reflection -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXrSZpBg2WI
2/ Guard of Honour -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aw-Z-SmfP6I
3/ Golden Wedding -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-SZFvaHnEQ
4/ Varanasi -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nh6FKZDKd0
5/ Questions -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmfCKk48EG8
6/ Remnants - Auschwitz -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8cIXenq9GY
7/ Restless day -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2kR9ZlEa6s
8/ Invitation -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4syNSdtgQ0
9/ Insides -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2D1sRadWe8
10/ Sleepless Night -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2D1sRadWe8
11/ Unknown River -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk6Y5nNzIdU
12/ The First Time -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIzzFJdj3DM
13/ Word Game -- www.youtube.com/watch?v=bGDioDYXex4
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 9:07 AM UTC
Heater and me shoulda been a thing
but we let it go,
I stayed put when she went south
to see the hippy show
at Varanasi she got sick
I'd warned her of the same
but her friend was green, about our scene
so she went anyway
When I got back to England
I gave her dad a call,
she'd given me his number
coz she didn't know where she'd fall
he said she was in England too
and not too far from me
I waited for a coupla of days
hoping she'd be free
and when I called I could hear
some strain within her voice
she didn't sound like the angel
I had met in other times
she told me she was hooked up
with the guy she'd left behind
she felt like she'd betrayed him
she was not the travelling kind
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 5:36 PM UTC
स्याही से टूट कर शब्दों का पन्नो पे बिखर जाना,
इतना आसान नहीं शब्दों का बनारस बन जाना़...
ख्वाहिश है, शब्द तुम्हें कुछ यूँ छू के गुज़र जाएँ,
तुम ढूढ़ना मुझे,जब हम इन गलियों में खो जाएँ...
#thought #hindi_shabd #varanasi
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC