Again, Dawn At Puri By Jayanta Mahapatra Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The break of dawn
Contrasted with
Faith and doubt,
Faith as frail as dawn-light
Followed by doubt
Casting aspersion with regard to
The utility and validity
Of adhering to
In so piety and virtuosity.

The dawn will come and go,
So is faith
Shaky and full of disbelief,
The widows past their prime,
Lying in utter submission,
Queued in rows,
Looking distraught,
What to seek for
When interest itself is not?

The vast sea scape
Of the Puri temple complex
Adjacent to,
With the crows and the skulls,
Rituals continuing,
Sands shifting,
Pyres in flames,
The trails of smoky blaze
Doing the rounds
Telling of life and the world
Otherwise.

What it to get from,
What it to lose,
Where to go,
How the faith sustaining by,
What the truth,
Heaven and Earth contrasting
And contradictory
With the crows crowing
And cawing for hunger,
Want and scarcity of food,
Priests and clients
And middle men all engaged in?

The most frightening is the view
Of the tonsured men
On the ghats,
The places nearer to water bodies
By the crematorium
Of the beach,
The pyres, logs and the skulls
On the holy sands of Puri
Perhaps looking like metaphysicans,
Vedic, Upanishadic classical pundits
Also telling of what it lies it here.