It’s taken me a few months to digest everything that I saw and took in Varanasi. It’s an absurd metropolis of memory, silt, silk and myth. It made me wish I had been there sooner, and I had gone with more time. There was just so much to take in, to listen to. We walked by the ghats for a long time, while I spotted names and sights only recognisable in other people’s memories and books.
I can’t quite capture what Benaras was like. For a change, I was short of words and description.
On a small boat, on the Ganga,
were three women from the delta.
Each with a prayer, and a womb,
Full, empty, happy.
Their bangles descend to silt.
And their million bra-hooks.
Undone swiftly by the current,
Boobs hanging resplendent.
Praying for miscellaneous,
and the rather, odd,
thankless male descendant.
nehamaami 
“It made me wish I had been there sooner, and I had gone with more time.”
Time – it’s that one thing that defines life, and limits it as well.
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Sounds absolutely awesome, this city that I’ve not yet seen……..
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Banaras ghats are indeed mystic. Awesome words to depict.
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Hmm sounds interesting though religious places are last on my to visit list
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I love the style of poems u write…very unique and powerful in limited words…
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Banaras City of god. also want to feel this experience. awesome poem, keep posting.
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Just the Naad of the river takes you somewhere deep inside yourself..superb place..
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