3 Poems Of Rati Saxena
THE DEATH HYMN
She was hungry
as the death at the beginning of the universe
and cold as death had already touched her,
Waiting for a warm touch in the lonely dark room
The machines are pumping as if
draining the water out of fields.
Now, she is waiting to be burnt with the woods
to get some warmth before her journey
bodies are on the bank of the river Ganga
waiting to get nirvana,
before that, her soul jumped onto the water
started swimming along with fishes
she is in the field of Vietnam
to become the food for seeds
he couldn’t make a pyramid for her
so made a locket with her ashes
and started his journey towards the sea,
interrupted by death.
Buddha, Einstein and Thao in the post ICU
Buddha is sitting in the corner of ICU from where
Seeing all that he saw before becoming Buddha
Two-year-old boy, lilac eyes, swinging between eternal and finite
Wounds covered with white bands like tilak on the forehead,
Sliding slowly in the throes of death
Ninety-year-old woman.
Wrestling with death and overtaking him,
What is the path left after becoming a Buddha?
On the other hand, Einstein humming the theory of relativity
Apart from diseases, connecting the burning of stars to the universe
Were just tying knots in theory of relativity
Disease, and death have relativity, the real question is of the universe.
What rules will change if one become a Buddha?
Taking off the spider’s web, Tao looked down
said with a smile
sip joy in pain
find life in death
Blank Slate
This you must do – keep a slate
with a chalk, at the place, where you bury me
Yes be careful that I am not burnt
but planted in soil
the way paddy seedlings are
the way mango kernels are
I do not like the efficacy of fire
It wants to diminish in the very roots
whereas I want to stay a little bit longer on this earth
The doctor says my retina is upset with my nerves
Perhaps I won’t be able to see anything
The dark in the earth without a speck of light
will thus comfort me
Remember I am supposed to be neither wrapped in a shroud nor fastened in a casket
I feel claustrophobic in closed homes
Just dig out some soil to place me as it is
Then cover me with some books that are rotting in my library
Some termite may go in with these
Termite the most studious of all
will tell me things word by word
and will leave when doom comes
while I will knead like soil
If possible, throw around some seeds
specially of green chilies and tomatoes
Their roots will caress me
their fragrance help dissolve my intestines
Don’t worry about my bones
they will melt in the soil
like a chocolate on the tongue
They have had so many holes
that earthworms can make their way through
I told you to ensure
keeping a blank slate
If you please you may write on it
“The one who sleeps here was too rude
anger used to flow in her nerves like blood
She was so eccentric that she insisted on
whatever she thought was the truth
so much so that her bones hollowed
She saw good bad in almost everyone
and that’s how the nerves of her retina got topsyturvy”
Do write,
and write but only the truth, otherwise the soil will write about
I absolutely hate lies