STRANGERS

My temple of memories
carries with it
a divine cocktail of
the scent of flowers,
sandal-paste, sandal-sticks,
camphor, holy-ash,
sugar, jaggery,
oil and fruits.
My temple of memories,
always endowed with
sanctity, serenity and tranquility,
a divine ambience,
so to say.
In the mornings and evenings,
devotees in ones, twos,
or in droves throng
before the presiding
deity, always in smiles.
Devotees offer prayers,
offer oblations,
seek divine blessings,
before the powerful deity,
thus they believe.
Once in a year,
the auspicious period of
forty-one days arrive,
both in the mornings
and evenings,
devotees, old, middle-aged,
youth, teenagers and children,
a number of them
as darkness descends
and wipe-away light
for the day,
converting the light world,
into a dark world,
my temple of memories,
stands tall like
a flood-lit divine, dome,
devotees, in and outside
wait for the
Sanctum-Sanctorum, wide-open
for ‘darshan’ of the deity,
amidst lighted oil lamps,
amidst ornamental splendor ,
lifting the worshippers
to spell-binding world,
to a trance,
while all the folded-
palms except two
turn towards the
glittering deity
in the world of lights,
the two,
two teenagers,
of course with folded-palms,
exchange of glances,
smile at each other,
messages silently conveyed,
after everything over,
each disperses for the day.
My temple of memories,
with the passage of time
now witnesses,
each of them,
now grown-ups
crossing paths,
like strangers,
with their partners,
with their progenies,
of course like strangers,
or strangers these days…..
My temple of memories
remains silent witness,
as always….
and memories keep on,
mounting…mounting,
mounting……