As kites can fly
And like the spires
Of Hindu Ghats
The wood of Kashi
On Ganga banks
To build the pyres
For funeral blaze
Lit from embers
Of Shiva’s fire
Burns every hour
Of every day
Four thousand years
And still today
To build the pyres
For funeral blaze
Lit from embers
Of Shiva’s fire
Burns every hour
Of every day
Four thousand years
And still today
And then it does
But only for a moment
Until something else
Pulls it away
In this visual cacophony
Of a culture traveler’s feast
Playful ritual
Paddling on styrofoam
While mother washes
So I settled in
To setup the shot
When a little girl
Ran through it
So I fell in love
With her too
Everyday:
A little music
A little dance
Even better:
A lot
I heard
But did not hear
You exiting the door
And my eye
Was on a scooter
For which I’d waited
A colourful picture
Beautiful
But the focus
Is a little short
The rickshaws
Are sharp
But the people
Are not
So I set up in the median
Camera in hand
And let the people come
Reveling in
Faces in the crowd