The Ratha Jatra

Hands thrown above
                      In absolute surrender,
A giant sea of men
                      Roar and thunder,
A chant that echoes high,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."

They heave and they tug
                       The sturdy ropes with vigour.
They pull the triumphal carriages
                       That seat the Gods with grandeur.
And all the while, sonorously cry,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."

Materialises the Taladhwaja
                        In shades of green and red,
Carves the path and leads the way,
                       With all its might, speeds ahead.
Holder of the plough,
                        Fierce yet jovial,
The great Lord Balabhadra, 
                        Blesses the loyal.
It reverberates all through the sky,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."
                     
In glides Maa Subhadra,
                        Aesthetic and graceful,
Safe in the red and black Darpadalana
                        As gongs clang and jangle.
With a brother on each side,
                        In a chariot trimmed with gold,
She is pleased with all,
                        Sparing neither young, nor old.
And the earth sings with joy,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."

Sweat trickles down the brow, as the day passes.
The crowd stubbornly awaits for a glimpse of sacredness.
Their hearts full of hope, tongues uttering prayers;
Having no identity,
But that of a devotee,
They stand shoulder to shoulder,
In a strange divinity.
A faith that never shall die,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."

And then He comes,
                         In His sixteen-wheeled Nandighosh,
The Natha of Jagat,
                         The Lord of the Universe.
Chaos erupts, when His chariot arrives,
                         Regal, in red and yellow.
A chance sighting of those round black eyes
                         Emitting a heavenly glow,
The World all but explodes;
Drums! Conches! Exulting dances!
Resounding through the cosmos,
Their voices fly,
"Jai Jagannatha, Jagannatha Jai."

An Ode To My Lost Love

Going through a break up is bad. Getting dumped is worse. But losing a love through no fault of yours (okay, maybe a little fault), is the worst. Heart-break and wallowing in misery are mild terms for that painful, gut-wrenching feeling. It was the exact same emotion I went through when I lost my love. My Beloved. My phone. My ridiculously expensive phone, that my dad had paid for because I didn't earn enough to buy that particular model. 

It didn't help that I was on vacation. I had no work to do except sit and mope. I refused to use any other phone because it just didn't seem right to move on so quickly. I needed time to mourn. Ignoring the advices offered to me by friends and family on how to get over the terrible mishap, I decided to recollect each and every moment spent with my Beloved. 

I used to wake up each morning to the sound of an irritating alarm tone of my phone, and then check for any texts I would have received in the middle of the night on WhatsApp. I stopped wearing watches a long time ago, because I checked the time on my phone. After all, watches are mere pieces of jewellery, and it wouldn't matter in the least if they stopped working. I never watched the news or read newspapers because I got TOI notifications on my phone. It didn't matter that I hardly ever read the whole article, just the one liner news notification was enough to keep me updated. Off late, I had even taken to reading e-books on my phone. 

I couldn't check my Facebook profile, couldn't browse through Instagram, couldn't watch videos on YouTube, couldn't edit the pictures I had taken on the holiday, couldn't check stuff on Google for anything and everything I had doubts about. And I haven't even begun talking about the emotional attachment. My phone had been my faithful companion in awkward situations. It was there when I needed to look busy and important. It was there when I felt lonely in a crowd. It was there when I became angry with anyone, and desperately needed a distraction. It had always, always been there.

I may be many things, but one thing that I am not is weak-hearted. I knew life goes on and that I had to be strong and take life as it comes. Bracing myself, I decided to take up the challenge. I tried my hands at cooking that day, something that always scares me, and found that I actually enjoy doing it. I spent a quiet afternoon to myself with an actual hard copy of a novel and a few cups of tea, and realised I had missed the comforting scent of the pages of books. The evening was spent in cracking crazy jokes with my cousins and laughing like maniacs with the rest of my family. Thanks to my extremely supportive family who left their usual work to chat with me, I realised how very possessive my Beloved had become, demanding all my time for itself!

Just when I was endowed with this great insight and promised myself to prioritise the important things and people over my Beloved, I glanced fondly around my family once more. I watched open mouthed as my great enlightenment came to nought.  My mom was fiddling with her cell-phone, my aunt was talking to someone on the land phone, one of my brothers was chatting on his laptop and the other was doing God-knows-what in his DSLR camera, and my uncle was playing cards on his playbook! I had some real strong competition. My family has its own Beloveds!