Crematorium. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

The virtuous or sinner,
rich or poor,
mighty or weak,
famous or infamous,
wise or foolish,
ruler or the ruled,
theist or atheist,
death calms down all.
Such motionless and
noiseless are carried here
as death precedes funeral.

Crematorium welcomes all
with equanimity and a calm
serene mind.
Furnaces, whether electric, firewood,
LPG, run at high temperatures,
burn the bodies,
leave fragmented bones
and ashes behind.

Modern crematories use
technology to register
cause of death, time, death
certificates and are equipped
with fuel and personnel
to put bodies on pyre.
Kiths and kins,
cry and cry,
shed sorrowful tear on your chest,
but undisturbed is the
crematorium,
performs its duty of
cleaning the environment,
benefits the survivors.

It is that place where
you experience the worthlessness
of your vanity,
greed and the high status
you struggled to
achieve in life.
But on return from the crematory,
life is back to normal and
as usual,
overlooking your experience
that ultimately becomes volatile.