Remnants of the old temple
Long ago I frequented
Now dilapidated
A dignified ruin
Decrepit, faded flag
Bravely yet barely flapping
Jilted by the pigeons
Echoes of fluttering, cooing
In the haunting halls
Even the gods are forlorn
Their pleas drowned
By the smoke and honking
Hawkers’ hoarse persuasions
Baskets filled with rotting fruit
Where once it was lovingly served
With slivered almonds
We expectantly lined up
For a dollop of sooji halwa
Our lips shining with ghee
Satisfied glimmer in our eyes
Competing to be carried upon shoulders
To reach up and clumsily clang the bell
Running out with a waft of incense
Chunks of coconut in our fists
Dropping a coin in the beggar woman’s corner
And those were our impressions of God
SONYA KASSAM 
There was a mandir in Ngara or River Road or somewhere there, this took me back to Saturday mornings visiting that temple. You’ve captured it so well, absolutely amazing!!
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I passed area adjacent to River rd and saw that temple. It brought back so many memories. Thanks!
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Times have changed, things have changed, our prayers have changed, has God changed?
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Do I believe God has changed? I certainly hope so….
:)
https://followyourshadow.wordpress.com/2014/07/31/an-imperfect-god/
https://followyourshadow.wordpress.com/2015/03/26/frozen-faiths/
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Superb, both!
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Dear Sonya,
Thank you for sharing this with us. I like this a *lot*!
Immediately, while reading it, the poem evoked a feeling of something that, while delapidated on the outside, is pristine on the inside; while its exterior is disheveled, and perhaps even seemingly unkept, its interior shines.
I absolutely love the term you used…”a dignified ruin.”
All good wishes,
robert
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Thank you for your wonderful thoughts about the poem, I really appreciate them.
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What happened, did the people who took care of it move away?It’s such a shame. :)
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The city has changed so much Ranu, it is heart breaking to see all the old buildings rotting, almost pleading…
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