At World's Richest God Poem by indira babbellapati

They came
In as many ways
As is possible:
Flying
On foot
By road
By trains
With a single objective

They came:
Alone
With families
With friends

Hands stretched
Into the sky
In helplessness
They repeated His name
Aloud and alone
Though in groups

Aapatbhandava!
Anaadharakshaka!
Govinda...

Each blade
Each rock
Vibrated
As the name's repeated
Individually and collectively
Thronged across the seven hills

There're no friends
There're no families
Each prayed single
As one stood facing the idol
For nth part of a wink
Turning the whole world
Into one orphanage...!