Bijay Kant Dubey

Mahashivaratri, The Great Night Of Shiva - Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The night of marriage anniversary,
Shiva as a groom will depart for
Sati-Uma’s house
With the band and party of his
With the tigers, bears and monkeys dancing
And playing with,
The weird winds howling by
With the goblins, ghosts and spirits.

The groom seated on a bull,
The winds howling by,
The ghosts and spirits frolicking,
Monkeys and bears
All in his party.

Shiva going, going to the bride’s home
And Nature too appearing playful,
The brutes and beasts of the wilds,
They also going with,
A strange marriage party.

The bridegroom instead of being in jewellery and gems,
Silken clothes and finely dressed,
Going as a sadhu, sanayasin and sadhaka
With the rudraksha garland
And the snakes rounded around
And hanging from the neck,
The rudraksha bracelets
And wrist bands.

Half-naked and bare-bodied
In the lion leather
Just to cover
The groom with a kamandala and a trisula
Coming to the bride’s door
And the bride’s party,
Especially the people
Aghast and stunned to see the groom
Dressed otherwise.

A fuss overtaking them,
The bride’s mother and other companions,
Those come to see the groom
In a kingly robe,
But here the groom in a wandering sadhaka’s robe,
A sadhu from Kailash,
Vyom Bhole Shankara,
Lost in Himself,
One whom poison too cannot ruffle,
Nilkantha Har, Har Mahadeva.

All aghast and awe-struck to see Shankara,
Adi Shankara Mahadeva
With the snakes hanging from,
Seated on a bull,
Coming in a sadhu’s guise
With the tigers, bears and monkeys,
Ghosts and goblins
In his party,
The weather too playing foul,
Windy, cold and a bit rainy and cloudy
As for moisture in air.

The hair is matted
And the guise of a tapasvawin,
One doing penance,
One endowed with the third eye
And meditating,
Foreseeing the past, present and the future,
Living here, dwelling far,
Always wandering, taking to recourse,
One from the crematorium ground
And the mountainous regions.

And with the three ash-lines dotting the forehead,
With a rudrakasha rosary
Seated on a tiger leather
With the kamandala, the damru and the trisula,
Half-sleepy, half-waking,
But seeing it all,
The way of life and the world,
Such a groom at the door to take the bride away,
Adi Shankara Himself approaching,
If this be, why is this hullabaloo and pandemonium,
Which the worldly people understand it not?

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, February 27, 2014

Poem Edited: Friday, March 7, 2014

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