Oblivion Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

Far extending meadow
A wild brook flowing whimsically
At the northern edge of the meadow
On the bank of the brook flowery bushes
Mysterious with blooming shadow-flowers
Air engrossed with the aroma
Midnight moon coming down be seated
On a branch of an old Peepul tree
In the centre of the meadow appears
Some people sat making a circle
Going there saw a corpse
Covered with a snow white cloth
Made of moonlight thread
The clumsy devilish fellows
Sitting around the corpse gossiping
And swinging..

Sudden gust of wind removed the cloth
Face of the corpse clearly seen
Woe is me!
I know the person.
Whenever I stand in front of the mirror
See the reflection of that face...

A blue wave of oblivion touches my forehead
Within a moment see there is nothing
Only a cloth as white as snow flying
Crossing the brook flying
Flying over the sluggish moon...