SIGNATURE

How many more Summers do I have to wait By surviving the sultry days and steamy nights With this monotonous methodical mortal coil Of terribly the same melancholic fool's errand How many more Autumns do I have to wait By shedding all the hopes on tomorrow Groping for nothing in the glimmer And to live bare and barren How many more Winters do I have to wait By enduring the piercing pain of nullness And witnessing the blazing ghastly white everywhere In the state of sleepless hibernation How many more Springs do I have to wait By being indifferent to the vernal freshness And how many more tedious emptiness do I have to pull through Suppressing all the agonies and afflictions

Sour Ganges, run slushy While we are plagued by the worst pandemic, You are festering by the fetid turbidity, Putrefied by carrying the bloated floating bodies Mangled, deteriorated, decomposed mortal remains Bodies that still await their destiny As the members in the food chain stand by impatiently In the form of speeding fishes that are ready to devour The vultures that hover are preparing to swoop down The stray dogs that keep vigil on the banks  To check for the bodies that wash up While the rich smoke from the ghats fogs your air, The stench from the flesh chokes you The dealwoods too are all too extortionate these days And these are the souls,  Too penurious to secure a single twig for a pyre Then they had to resort to you for a repose And to gain the promised salvation While we are immersed in this eerie loop Of horrendous epidemic You are bearing the brunt of it By bearing the blanched bruised bodies And when both we are toiling in our own way A solace is far far away  As no on