Ghosts of the Ganges

A work in progress below....don't think I'm quite finished with it yet...we'll see...

Ghosts of the Ganges

We are the ghosts of the Ganges.
Some years -
some weeks -
some hours ago we lived.

Our ashes
- our remains -
lay buried,
concealed beneath the eroding banks of
Allahabad,
Patna,
Bhagalpur.
Across the eponymous plains
we may travel,
shifting and moving
closer to the tides of Bengal -
farther from those who
loved us.
We may, we may.

We are the ghosts of the Ganges
-the memories of loved ones passed.
Some years -
some weeks -
some hours ago we lived.

I -
a boy who threw rocks
to menace the local mongrel,
who relished in (stolen) fruit
from the Jwalapur market,
who once kissed the neighbour-girl,
hair tied up in white ribbons.
I -
a mother and wife,
who pleased my husband
with a spotless home,
who left five children behind,
the oldest no more than twelve.

We are the ghosts of the Ganges.
Some years -
some weeks -
some hours ago we lived.

The living sometimes join us
to wash -
to bathe -
to cleanse their spirits of sin
in the arms of the goddess -
to carry away the blessing
of Lord Vishnu’s feet.
In Kashi,
they take the water away
in sealed copper pots
- the living.
But here we shall remain.
- the breathless
- the lifeless
- the dead.

We are the ghosts of the Ganges
- the memories of loved ones passed.
some years -
some weeks -
some hours ago we lived
- the breathless
- the lifeless
- the dead.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.