Saturday, March 1, 2025

Pious Prayers (Poem)

Pious Prayers

Aren’t these pious prayers?
Not earnest enough?
The little sparrow
Had to crawl underneath the car
For a lick of freshly made cool water
Below the a/c compressor

Yesterday early morning
A thirsty crow was
Tapping the skylights,
The translucent convex domes
For cool condensed mist drops
A tiny few at most!
In desperation the neighborhood crows
Are nibbling the Staghorn sumac cone
Fruit drupes even in the summer -
Normally reserved for the hard winters

The stream, near the cataract
That too has dried up
Hardly there is a trickle
You see flow only after persistent drizzles
In the lean summer months
Now you see no current –
And
I miss the music of our
Backyard falls, its meditative murmurings
A soothing
Hushed lovers’ conversation in the night

My great grand father would
Have performed yagnas – on command he could 
Call the benevolent Indra – Prajnanya
My maternal grand father too 
Was a simple, self effacing reader of the
Vedas – that perennial fountain of dharma (धर्म)
No, not the misinterpreted phrase “dhamma/damma
Found in modern dictionaries or eastern religious treatises 
Outlined in a foreign European tongue - English

Dharma as instructed in the three Vedas
The original mode of human conduct -
It is meant to uplift one and all beings (souls)
And gently guide them towards
Real enlightenment; that was
Way before the modern Maslow!

Now, with a few Sanskrit phrases
I can utter, say a bit haltingly
Prayers to the thirty three crores (of) gods
For a simple cool summer shower
I need them for my Gardenia flowers,
Lawn, sacred Basil (Tulasi),
And Okras

The local farmers too need them
For sweet corn and vegetable crops
The deer, birds, and playful squirrels
Rabbits too need them
A respite from the hot dry wind
Won’t you bless us with
A silky carpet of Jasmines and Dianthus
Govinda?
Your name itself is – Narayana
You seem to float on
A veritable ocean of fresh water

(Dedicated to all the weary drought stricken people walking miles for a pitcher of fresh water across continents. This poem was originally penned in northeast US during a long dry spell in summer. It resonates and finds relevance in the very dry arid regions of Rajasthan, south India, and even the coastal Andhra. And many other dry regions all over the world.) Copyright 2025 by the author


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