Incomplete!

Being apart. Yet together. No matter the physical presence doesn’t matter

Once you reach the destination of oneness

Yet. You may never reach there. 

N number of things that you can compare it with. 

Two ends of river that think of one other they can never be with. 

And then. Nothing you can enjoy to fullest. 

Even the state of bliss at its best. 

Coz only half of you is present. 

Rest somewhere unreachable. 

The cold breeze that caresses you,

The naughty wind that touches you. 

The various things that dot the horizon. 

Even if the rainbow reflects in the clear Ganges water,

Even if you at some random careless step falter. 

No one’s there to have your back. 

To get the colours back from ultimate black.

Look, the boats and rafts flowing away with the waters 

The majestic mountains standing guard watching over. 

The langurs the monkeys the never ending kinds of trees. 

The various reasons to worship n believe. 

The weird yet annoyingly charming crowd. 

Often giving you a glimpse of innocence and sorrow. 

Spiritual at most times,

Helplessness and sorrow in abundance in places. 

The mockery of humanity playing live somewhere,

The machineries churning out religion the other. 

The mysterious fruits delicious they look,

The unusual names they’ve given to places that serve food. 

Abundance of sweets and what not to eat. 

Yet the poor beg for you to feed 

Hundreds of years of history to be seen

Dotting the skyline for all those wanting to hear the stories which they spin. 

The moments of attaining knowledge of history,

The concentration built up to connect with the divine. 

The hour of happy bhajans and Aarti 

The hymns of which vibrate with your heartbeat. 

The twinkling lights floating on the Ganges,
The remnants of flowers and offerings you have been giving through the ages. 

The honking, the crowds, the silence permeated by the song of the clock. 

Signalling the end of yet another day in this place’s numerous lives. 

Every single atom does what it’s meant to,

But ensuring it does what is to the full. 

Yet there’s one lonely soul. 

Complete in all terms yet
Truly incomplete!

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