Varanasi Poem by Paul Hansford

Varanasi

Rating: 5.0


Ganges, dawn, a luminous haze
over the water. The bathing ghats
are busy with the faithful. (But India
is inconceivable without faith.)
The robed bathers, raising river water
to the sun, pouring it back
to mother Ganges, are they worshipping
the sun or the river?
For them God is everywhere
and everything. Water, sun,
the river and the twinkling lamps floating on it
are part of one consciousness.

The burning ghats too (such quantities of wood
stacked ready) are beginning their day.
The funeral party approaching in respectful haste
have a job to do. They build their pile,
move the body to the wood,
start the fire. I watch, but not for long.
This moment, so intimate, so public, reminds me
I am an intruder here. The ashes
will return to Ganga unwitnessed by me.

Away from the river, the vendors of tea
do their trade among the stalls. Monkeys,
cheerfully pilfering, are chased away
half-heartedly, for they are Hanuman’s representatives,
and they, with the sacred, garbage-clearing cows,
are part of the one consciousness. In this land
all are “the faithful”, everything is God’s creation.
In this poverty is richness.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Indira Babbellapati 25 October 2009

through your wonderful collage, you strengthened my wish of visiting varanasi...

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Sonya Florentino 04 August 2009

this is beautiful Paul.. and it does seem that almost every thing is revered...and why not...for everything is God's creation...

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Vaibhav Pandey 04 January 2009

very well written............

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Samanyan Lakshminarayanan 23 December 2008

that was a real picture of varnasi- in india every living thing is attached to god excepting man-rat, monkey, dog, cow...everything..thanks for sharing such alovely piece

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Rani Turton 23 December 2008

This is fascinating and brought me back pieces of my past, because I lived there as a child. I misss the vitality.

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