One Night While Burning My Father; A Heart-Rending Scene Was It Indeed To See And View Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

One night I had been burning my father,
Lifting from the makeshift green bamboo bier,
Seating and bathing near the small stream water
On the river-bed
By the side of the dark and lonely manless hamlet,
Making him wear the new clothes somehow,
Just rounding around,
Tearing off the older binds,
Making him free from which binds
And finally placing him on the wooden pyre
With the logs over,
Lighting it and thereafter fire keeps blazing on,
Trails of smoking arising,
Fire flames playing upon
And the limbs vanishing out of sight one by one
To be sketched on the sand
With the choric chants of Hari bol,
Hari bol, bol Hari bol,
Say the name of the Lord,
Ram nam satya hain,
Ram nam, satya hain,
Yahi sabo ka gatya hain,
Ram’s name is only true,
This the way of all
And my father burning to coal and ashes
Under the starlit skies
On the river sands,
Away from human haunt and habitation,
In that dark and desolate loneliness
Where there was none
But the old peepul tree
As a witness of village forefathers
Marking it all
As from the stem of it
Hung it the asthi-kalasha of many gone-by
And bereaved souls.