A poet's diary


In the Creator’s skull

The dead live in the creation’s skull, in vast snowy wastes of north hills, where we offer smooth rice balls nicely rounded by our loving hand and the fastest freezing river flows below, where we speak in mantras.

We do not know our senior dead. So we speak softly of all our dead including the new dead in mantras. The dead hear us in the Creator’s skull where an ice stream flows green and we have to say unspeakable mantras in the oldest language of the dead.

Our rice balls are smoothly rounded . As there are no crows in snow hills we offer our rice to freezing river.

(At the Brahma Kapal (Creator’s skull) in the Himalayas we make our rice offerings to our dead)

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