Avantika
Vijay Singh is a writer, editor, poet, researcher, and photographer. She is the author of two solo poetry books i.e., Flowing… in
the river of life and Dancing Motes of Starlight (her debut ebook). She is the winner of the Nissim International Award Runner Up
2023 and has been published in national and international journals. She also writes the blog “Ordinary People, Extraordinary
Lives” in the Times of India.
Sunrise in Kashi
under the dawning skies, on a boat I sail
in Kashi, where thinnest is the veil,
between the worlds—physical and metaphysical—
time and space dissolve in the city mystical…
the rivers of my mind merge and flow
in eternal consciousness with the river’s sun-lit glow
on the flowing waters
time shimmers gold, flowing by on time’s altars—
history unfurling, the morning light revealing…
forts, palaces, ashrams, and temples sparkling,
on ghats supine like the cosmic man’s spine,
built for their proximity to the sacred design
dawn touches the city from time’s dawn
from Lord Shiva’s infinite column of light drawn—
light that pierced the three worlds (trilok),
manifesting as the jyotirlinga bespoke—
dawn bathes the buildings and temples
along the ghats in colours transcendental…
colours from them run into the river
rippling like brush strokes of a painter…
colours flow on the banks like art
colours flow right into my heart…
soft images come into focus
on the dreamlike tableau before us,
in the liminal space I stand
between what was and what is
echoes of time on waters linger
sifting truths on reflections that glimmer…
vaporising illusions that fade like smoke
from the funeral pyres that nothingness evoke…
***
The Dance of Healing
Ecstatic is the river,
that to glorious heights rises,
dancing wild in torrents of silver,
through valleys and mountains, it slices.
But in its long course to the sea,
in the sands, it often stutters, running dry—
Life is not much different—
ecstatic are we with our glories
till one day… the river is no longer magnificent,
running dry in the sands of loss or injuries.
Alone in the universe of grief,
we suffer for the loss of flow we once knew,
mired in frustration from the lack of relief
wondering when life will renew,
cursing the turns taken wrong in misplaced belief.
Know that healing is not a return,
where the goal is as before—the same,
but a transforming on a new turn,
to something greater… a brighter flame.
Much like the Lord’s Tandava; cosmic energy
pulsating to His damru’s cadence.
His flowing locks in frenzy
tossing and turning the plane of existence
unravelling the old, familiar reverie—
tempests carrying away the resistance.
Shiva dancing in cosmic glory,
the dance of creation and destruction—
the ending is not merely an ending
but a pause, an interlude in the symphony
before the leap to the transition—
burning the old, the known… the rudimentary.
Fall away… habits, people, relationships…
the stage set for the next step of evolution…
On to this levelled plane
flows the Ganga from His matted locks
nourishing, life-giving like the rain
seeding creation again…
the river of life halted by insurmountable rocks
flows once again
Healing is finding that Ganga within—
the river below the river,
the subterranean stream of strength within
that floods our forgotten channels inner—
a pristine tide of gratitude for all that has been…
from bitterness to deliver.
Healing is to dance again like the river,
rising from the razed rage of the Tandav’s passing,
accepting the vulnerabilities that make us quiver,
but transforming suffering into a new beginning…
Just like the Lord, who drank the halahala,
transformed suffering into saving creation.
Healing is showering the Ganga of patience, love, and care,
not giving in to despair…
He, the Lord of Healing, blessing the essential repair—
not just merely returning to living, but rising ‘aware’
a renewal that the Lord symbolises… a ‘new’ beginning—
gold dust on sunbeams shimmering...
***
