The sweet moment of twilight,
And the sky above,
Ready to adorn the blanket,
Of a dark blue shade.
The stillness in the air,
The peace in the ambience,
The divinity’s sandstone idol,
Fragrance of mogra, sandalwood, and camphor,
And the mellow smell of the wet soil.
A flame emblazens much brighter,
As the darkness slowly sets in,
With the sound of the conch and the bells,
The reverberating utterance of the rhythmic mantras,
And the infallible faith of the engrossed devotees.
Indeed, this is true devotion,
When, everything comes to a standstill,
And is ready to be ingested in one’s soul,
And then get completely soaked,
In the ocean of this gaiety,
And surrender oneself,
In dance,
In music,
In emotions,
In expression,
In joy and ecstacy,
Where one experiences the ultimate truth,
A glimpse of the divine.
divine : echo : bliss
Tulip Brook 