My broken steps lead
To the Holy Ganga
treaded through ages by
kings and commoners alike,
wait in eager anticipation for
the night of the Dev Diwali.
A silent witness
To untold tales of joys and sorrows,
I shelter their footsteps
With open arms,
Yet each passing day is but a yearning for
The night of the Dev Diwali.
The tell-tale brunt of the ages
Mapped in my cracks and crevices
Are covered with
seeds of a million hopes
sown along every inch of my existence
blazing in glory
under the full moon night,
since it is Dev Diwali.
The flames of each hope
Fighting gallantly against the cool draughts of
the dragons of fear and doubt,
threatening to annihilate them.
A night when every hope finds a safe haven
Embalmed in holy chants and deep prayers
celebrating the Dev Diwali.
Written by Papia Ghosh
