The Pyre

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 one will see us any soon

For the Vista is still being constructed