On Day 605 of the daily poems our poet Chrys Salt is hoping for some inspiration from Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, wisdom, arts, music, learning and inspiration. (A puja is a prayer ritual performed by Hindus to honour and worship a deity).
Saraswati
You were surrounded by fans at your puja.
I couldn’t get near you for a chat,
and I wanted to ask for something.
You looked fantastic by the way,
those yellow garlands, gold ornaments,
that young moon in your hair, white silk.
Impervious as gods are to all our offerings,
cottage cheese, puffed rice, sugar cane, thick milk.
We had a terrific time at your party.
Fabulous food. Piles of saffron rice, roti,
moong dal, fried brinjal, cauliflower,
dyed to marigold with turmeric.
I understand that after all the celebrations,
Tagore on the harmonium,
everyone dressed in orange, gold and amber,
they box up all your finery
like Christmas decorations, and throw you in a river,
nothing left of you but dying garlands,
bolases of straw – all your sacred clay,
dissolved on river tides.
Awfully unfair after all you’ve done for folk
on pages minds and instruments.
But there you are.
We haven’t treated our gods all that well
come to think of it.
Anyway, there was me,
wanting to talk to you
hoping – for some inspiration,
you know the kind of thing,
that wisp of something left of thought,
caught on the tongue tip,
before vanishing.
One of your miraculous arrivals.
Sometimes I think you might be listening.
Chrys Salt
from Chrys Salt’s collection ‘The Punkawallah’s Rope’
Indigo Dreams Publishing 2017