Treasure Island

Nalini Chaturvedi

(18/2/71 / Jaipur, india)

Cremation to Creation


I hover above
An Invisible mist

While Fragrance of incense
Covers and shrouds
The place where 'I' lie
And All that surrounds

Masking the miasma
Of the physical self
That breaks down
As soul has long left

The air is thick
Oppressive and sick
I make no sound
While my body
Lies on the ground

Draped in white sheet
The look is complete
My nose all plugged up
It no longer breathe

It's a uniform
Everyone is wearing white
At least for this moment
They are all dressed up right

One by one they all come
The look on these faces
Is so glum
Although I know within
They are happy I caved in

This crowd consists of
medley of sorts
Most to show per functionary attendance
While my cadaver ceaselessly rots

Relatives, who always
Pulled the rug under me
Friends who were there
In time of my need

Some people are just here
For they have empty lives
By delving In others sorrow
Can only they thrive

Reams of peans
Of things I had been
So much of praise
I hear in deaths own face

They shake their heads
As if they are in shock
When I was around
Did they ever take a stock

The drama of life
Reaches it's end
Cremated and gone
Just ashes remain

Ashes then offered
To the holy river
Earthen pot on waves
Goes down stream with quiver

My soul soon seeks
Another form
As per my karma
New dress It will don

Hence there goes
the cyclical continuation
From tearful cremation
To joyful creation

And on the way
As a part of the play
We run in to each other
To learn something further
Before it's time to go away

Nothing is lost
So what can be found
We have always been here
Making our own regular rounds

Submitted: Thursday, July 31, 2014

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Topic(s): Life

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  • Nalini Chaturvedi (8/2/2014 1:41:00 PM)

    Thanks my friend Richard/David Harris and Mr C.P Sharma for the comments. I was trying to imagine the scene when I will be gone.....no bad ideas in my head :) (Report) Reply

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