I had been 2 Western Maharashtra long years back. I reached der by Dawn- the ball of sun suspended above a railway track, bt I was in darkness, I had a divided perspective 2wards understanding religion seein the temples in all way dilapidated conditions.
I stepped inside an age old temple. The titanic temple of deities spread around @ each wall.
The Seated KHANDOBA on Ram(goat); The Stood VITTHAL on brick Besides RAKHUMAI in her stoned saree & our very own undetachable MAHABALI HANUMAN (MARUTI) engraved out of a stone.
The roof had come down on the deities heads. Nobody seemed 2 mind, least of all the God himself. May b he liked the temple this better way.
In a corner a mongrel bitch had found a place for herself & her pupies. Past a doorway was cluttered wid broken tiles. The pariah (social outcasted) Puppies lookin @ u & their mother guarding them. A black puppy had gone a little far & I cud hear a tile click under its foot.
A terror strike my heart. I saw a dung beetle makin its way 2 the safety of the broken collection box. The crushing weight of the roof beam was felt by me! I felt sad not for the God's Bt for those ZENDU (marigold) flowers which I always hated as i considered them the flowers for the corpses.
IT WAS NO MORE A PLACE OF WORSHIP - THIS PLACE IS NOTHING LESS THEN "THE HOUSE OF GOD"
I stepped inside an age old temple. The titanic temple of deities spread around @ each wall.
The Seated KHANDOBA on Ram(goat); The Stood VITTHAL on brick Besides RAKHUMAI in her stoned saree & our very own undetachable MAHABALI HANUMAN (MARUTI) engraved out of a stone.
The roof had come down on the deities heads. Nobody seemed 2 mind, least of all the God himself. May b he liked the temple this better way.
In a corner a mongrel bitch had found a place for herself & her pupies. Past a doorway was cluttered wid broken tiles. The pariah (social outcasted) Puppies lookin @ u & their mother guarding them. A black puppy had gone a little far & I cud hear a tile click under its foot.
A terror strike my heart. I saw a dung beetle makin its way 2 the safety of the broken collection box. The crushing weight of the roof beam was felt by me! I felt sad not for the God's Bt for those ZENDU (marigold) flowers which I always hated as i considered them the flowers for the corpses.
IT WAS NO MORE A PLACE OF WORSHIP - THIS PLACE IS NOTHING LESS THEN "THE HOUSE OF GOD"
No comments:
Post a Comment