Men, women and children
Sat everywhere in the brilliant sun
Selling red and yellow flowers
Incense, sugar-cane, puffed rice, sweets
In the vicinity of the Durga temple
Right on the road
Obstructing traffic
Unmindful of somnambulistic passersby

Walkers walked the roads
As though in a dream
Their demeanour astral
Motorists stopped right
In the middle of the road
Before the temple
To say their prayers
Caring two hoots
For the noisy hoots
Of impatient honkers behind
They had a sign on their hind glass
“If you honk, you are a retard”

The time is Dussehra in India
When the Universal Mother descends
To stomp the streets
In victorious valour
On the back of Her ferocious lion
When not having
Dangerously trespasses
Into the territory of
Over-abundance

Street dogs fought in abandon
Perhaps inspired
By Her unseen presence
No one cared
Rabies was the last thing
Anyone feared
When the Mother was around
To bless everyone with Her looks
That warded off plague and pox

Women with jasmine
Loaded on their black oiled hair
Breezed around in chatter
Like spring clouds
Those who discerned saw the Mother
In them and bowed in reverence
Their sweat smelt the Mother
On poor earth
What more can any man care?

A solitary cumulonimbus
Laboured on the hills
Watching the scene
Undecided if she should rain
Her bowels filled with
Thunder, fire and lightning
Like the hungry ones on the ground

Awareness stood witness
Capturing the scene
The Mother of everything
Born, unborn and dying

I lay before Her prostrating
My incapable arms clasping
The neck of Her Lion and mane
Where else can a poor Indian soul
Find its peace than at Her feet?
Bless us Mother with your looks
A multitude of ignorant fools
Bacterial on the streets of life