PROSE

At the Golden Temple, Amritsar.

Why did we invent language?

To diminish boundaries, or the other way around?

All religion is serene;

It’s we the people, who’ve sort of forgotten

Why we created religion in the first place.

It’s us, always been us,

Who downgraded one religion, or the other;

Ours was always the better one.

We fought wars,

We conquered.

He’s gone; the Lord
He has left.
He’s in the mountains, alone.
He’s not looking down, nor up.
Not right or left.
He’s looking inside. Looking.
He’s smiling.
He’s sad, and angry. But not happy.
He’s smiling, the Lord.
He has left.
He’s in the mountains.

What do you do when you see your reflection;
Not in the water, or a mirror either. But
In a person.
Its almost like seeing a ghost.
What do you do then?
Reach out?
Try to grab it?
Talk to it?
Or do you scamper off in your closet? Scared.