On life and its vagaries

The ThandaVa

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The world comes to us in many ways

Yet every time it comes to us through words

And words are like hot Iron shots

We know not who puts them on our pates

They invariably get inside our heads

And create an impression that can’t be erased

Sometimes they behave like rods of iron too

Enters into us through many portals

And stays put

To remain with us till our days are over

We are maimed forever but knows it not

Verily our lottery is words

They whir around our head saying

“Thanda, thanda, thanda”

It is a deafening cry

It is the ancient Thandava of Siva

The cosmic dance

In anguish we cry out

“Mary, desist, we have sinned

Yet spare us, we are only human”

It’s a cry in the wilderness

We go on sinning

And look for redemption

For who is   ready to forgive others

Other than crying “forgive us our trespasses”

It’s a good prayer

And we feel secure

Till further shots fall


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