In Delhi's cold
I recall my mother,
the first warmth
that had enveloped me.
...
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It is a great poem where he mingles wit, intellect, myth, mystery and mysticism in a lively manner of talking, alluding to through anecdotes. The poem is like Jayanta Mahapatra's Dawn at Puri. Kashi, where is Kashi? Is it in mind too? Is the pond water not same water? Is clean water not the water of Kashi? The same Ganga water from the matted hair of Siva.
It is Gangajal that you scoop in your lota (tumbler) from your well, whether it is Kerala or elsewhere. When you open the tap, it opens to the main flow of Ganga, into your kitchen. But, ”purified”...😋