Gods sit idly on the platform
on which they were stationed
No one in my family looks at them
They are there for the elders,
who want the idols worshipped.
We both, my wife and I
have not believed in idol worship
or even prayers at that.
To my wife, the thought of God
rarely touches and I dwell
and ponder on often. I do pray
But my heart, I am not sure
is in prayers or where else! !
My son burns incense after bath
I am not sure he truly prays.
My daughter, small and naughty,
has never been taught to pray
or even seen anyone praying.
Does it really matter or doesn't it?
If I speak to my wife about it-
of religion, Culture, Spiritual needs,
she ignores. You are my living God
And our house is my temple.
My children, I'll not force to pray
but teach them to love and be true.
My heart is not in rituals and
customs so silly, I love to abhor
Let me be true to myself. Aren't
you happy with my devotion to you,
and the kids and their well-being.
Let the gods watch us and decide
Heaven, hell or moksha, who cares! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem