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Sun Temple of Arasaville

Flaming white sun
Cast long gyrating cloud-shadows
On limpid Nagavali waters
Laid back and dusty
Arasavilli village had hosted with pride
Effulgent sun-god
Through four dusty centuries
The world's time-keeper stops by for a second
Here at Arasavilli every day
As time stands still and desires ebb.

Searing Surya
Vaporizes fetid cesspools of desires
And rains down crystals of divine love
(Hanuman's ambitious monkey-face
Reddened with eating this fire-ball)
Here the present hangs heavily
Salaried government priests chant
Sonorous mantras, listlessly
Ancient tortoises strut around
Lazily on the graveled courtyard
The Bilwa tree has sprouted
Tender shoots in the hours of spring
Tiny Bogada flowers fall to the ground
Like multitudes of setting suns.

Crimson sun
Life-quickening sun
Orange sun
Life-sustaining sun
Blazing sun
Life-exterminating sun
Seven-horsed Surya
Mustachioed Sun-god
Sucking up the dirty opaque
Waters of the temple-tank
Beating down on the bare backs
Of sweaty dark richshaw-pullers
Giver of life, giver of hopes
Of a few coins to emaciated beggars
And to hawkers hoping for coconut-customers
Dawn sun, dusk sun
Shadow-casting afternoon sun
Twilight godhuli sun
Tamsoma Jyotirgamaya

A.J Rao
December 30, 2001

 

 

 

 
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