Tradition makes us offer
Holy water in tarpan
To the dead
At Har-ki-Paudi
Haridwar by the side
Of the holy river Ganga.
Taking water in hands
Offering is made
To the mother
Father, brother
Ancestors, siblings
under the chanting
Of holy mantras
Incantations followed by
Pouring the water
Back into the river.
Puzzled till one day
Its significance dawned
What is there
In our hands?
Can we defy death?
We are to suffer
Innumerable losses
In a life span
Do we always cry
Or move on
Accepting the reality
Certainty of death
The biggest loss
Mother, father
Brother, spouse
Other losses
compare poorly
But life must
Go on and on
We determined
To march forward.
Water in our hands
Small quantity
Merged into larger
River Ganga
Flowing from
The great Himalayas
merging into the sea
Like our souls
A small part of
That bigger soul
Aatmaa-parmaatmaa
Leaves little scope
For longer mourning.
When we realize
The cycle of
Life & death!
We can hold
The holy water
In our hand
Only so long !
So we empty
It into the Ganga
To merge water
With water
To maintain
The flow
The flow
Of Life !
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