New Ghoom

 

New Ghoom,

Seemed as much lost,

As the bustling Darjeeling city,

(And - as were you and me)

 

Darjeeling, crowded, complex,

Still the queen,

But lost in time, its maze

And in a smoggy winter’s haze

 

The monastery,

Jewel in the Buddha’s eye,

But the tourists’ chatter never cease

Where the monks could chant in peace

 

One monk in purple

Sells souvenirs,

He sees disappointment in my eyes

‘It helps us all,’ he tries

 

‘A small price

For the sangha to flourish,'

Better the tourism camera roll,

Than this die for once and all.

 

I buy a cheap trinket,

One more rupee to the cause

I wonder what you would say,

But you have already moved away

 

Deep inside

The gilded shrine,

Locked with the Buddha’s peaceful eyes,

Will he ask us too, to break all ties?

 

I should have left,

What an epilogue to the tale,

But I see a monk in ardent prayer,

Though the silken décor’s all threadbare

 

I remember the words:

A small price

For the sangha to flourish

In god’s hall, what more wisdom could I wish?

 

 I return

To both you and me

‘Does this remind of Gaya’s shrine?’

You’re surprised: but I smile, for it’s all fine

 

I go back to the monk

Some more rolled notes in his box,

‘That the Sangha here sees better days,

That the wisdom remains in this place…’

 

04^th March, 2023

Photo: Author's Archives