I stood up and went to the window

The Ghats were teeming with people


I took out a cigarette


Turning I watched her lying on the bed

Her body curving inwards like a child

In the womb


On the floor lay our tangled clothes

By the bed stood a used chillum


Suddenly I realised my search for

God was not for salvation or even



My search was for beauty

Not something diseased I felt

Inside myself


God my nakedest self

A wild dangerous light


On the bed she looked beautiful

Her white country smelling of

Hash and musk


On the Ghats sadhus sit Intoxicated to the ash and


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