The Silence of the Absolute

( My thanks are  due to my friend  Dr. Soma Sammadar , Professor  of Chemistry, Lady Brabourne College,  Kolkata for providing valuable insights while writing this article. Soma herself a cancer survivor is relentlessly working for stray dogs through her NGO Doddaden foundation. She vaccinates, sterilizes and feeds about 100  stray dogs , furry babies as she calls them  ,  in North Kolkata. )

The cremation ground is the backstage of the human drama—the only place where worldly noise is drowned out by the elemental truth of the flame. Every month, return to this ground to strip away your ego. Abandon your social rank and your digital distractions. Stand where the boundaries of life blur, and find clarity in the alchemy of ash.

Gaze upon the quiet form on the wood. A short time ago, this was a conscious being—a complex weave of past recollections, stored resentments, and yearnings left wanting. Those same shoulders, previously bowed by the crushing promise of "tomorrow," have found their final peace. Within this silence, the illusion dissolves; the "forever" we strive to secure is, in reality, not a foundation, but a fleeting moment.

In the presence of the sacred fire, worldly hierarchies dissolve. Agni recognizes neither the king’s silk nor the beggar’s rags; it knows only fuel. This is the ultimate stripping of the ego—a final surrender where the "puppet show" of status, the vanity of youth, and the sting of betrayal evaporate like mist. The pyre reveals a singular truth: our grand complexities are but fleeting ornaments on a journey toward absolute simplicity.

As the ashes merge with the current, allow the weight within you to dissolve alongside them. If every path inevitably converges at this river, why do we persist in lugging such massive burdens of pride? We are but sailors on a brief crossing, yet we insist on ballasting our ships with the stones of ego and the anchors of attachment.

To stand at the burning ghat is not an exercise in morbidity, but a profound practice of Vairagya—the art of holy indifference. Here, you confront the "Final Truth" not to cultivate a fear of death, but to master the grace of living lightly. In witnessing the dissolution of the physical form, you strip away the illusions of the self and rediscover the timeless witness: that eternal spark enduring long after the mask has fallen.

                                                         Dr. Pankaj Mala Bhattacharya

An Ode to the Goddess

 

An Ode to the Goddess

( I wrote this  Poem on 2020  and is based on a true event which took place on 14.04.2020 on the eve of Bengali New Year. The Lady in this poem is my friend’s Sister in law and the incident  took place in a small town called Bankura, West Bengal.  The Mother of the character now ( in 2025) is about 92 years old and still does not know that her daughter is no More.)

 The twilight slowly peeped in hue

The sky turned to crimson blue,

The sound of conch shells blew

The silence of dusk spread in milieu

The azure sky prepared to rest ,

And the birds off to their nest .

Over a call spoke the lady

O mother I have to hurry

Time to light evening lamp.

Offering to Devi, cannot be delayed

Old mother , with trembling hands prayed

God bless my child

And the Devi smiled ..

Lighting the lamp, the lady bend down

Touching the feet she sat on ground

Felt a heating , smell of burning

flame of fire behind her rising !

Engulfing her before she knew

Shouting out to be heard by few

Her daughter frantically tried to rescue

The roaring flames no mercy they knew

With burnt hands the daughter cried

And yet the Devi smiled….

The husband , hearing the cry of fire

put off the mains for safety of their

She treaded on the steep stairway

Groping alone in the dark pathway

All of a sudden her voice was quietened ,

with a thud she rolled like a ball flattened

And yet the Devi smiled….

She reached the Hospital almost dead

Total burns the authorities declared

Her skin tarnished and flesh was sagging

The light in eyes was lowly fading

A dreadful mellow tone she cried

And yet the Devi smiled..

The COVID -19 had engulfed the town

The country was under total lockdown

No trains, flights or busses around

Days of Despair in world

the state of art technology bowed down

to the all mighty powerful phenomenon

Her Doctor Son , stationed miles away

Curing the patients of the disease deadly,

Drove to the village for two days on road,

She gasped last breath, Before he reached

And yet the Devi Smiled…

The old mother miles away was unaware

Her Son left for last rites of his sister dear..

where do you Go my Son,

At this hour in this lockdown?

urgent office work, said he, holding his tear

The mother Prayed Divine mother take care

And yet the Devi smiled…

It was a twilight , the sky was dark

There was no sound except the bark

the silence of graveyard and the fear

the chants of Purohit filled the air

And with the jerk the charred body

was pushed to the flame ..

The old mother miles away rang the bells

With folded hands. my Children God bless

And she lighted the Evening lamp

The light of lamp, and the pyre in flame

Perfectly tuned in harmony of time

Lingered a darkness, maybe solitude

And yet the Devi smiled.

Still the old lady is totally unaware

continues her daily chorus with due care ,

worships the Devi without refrain

Seeking blessings for her children..

Psychologists say, telepathy works .

The pain is felt at miles apart

the spiritual teachers of the day

profess field of spiritual energy

that diverges to distances.. to infinity

I wonder here sitting in my balcony

Did the old lady feel during past few days

a heaviness somewhere deep within

when her kid was charred beyond recognition ,

when she gasped in the pain in ventilation

or when she breathed her last…

or when she rang the puja bells and her daughter’s pyre was lilting

Till today I wonder, wonder and wonder why the Devi smiles and smiles

I am the Devi,I am eternal

I am a dimension without physical

I am fierce and compassionate

I am creator and nurture

I am eternal knowledge and bliss

Why you seek me in form my child, when I am formless ?

And now I understand why the Devi Smiles and smiles.

                                     Pankaj Mala  Bhattacharya (30.04.2020)

 

 

Solitude: A Reflection

A moment of a quiet thought,

of melodious days from the past,

which vanished

like pearls of dew,

not to be traced again.

So fresh and painful

are the thoughts of those days,

now ceased to exist.

Strange is the solitude,

and the silence.

Nothing is so beloved

and so beautiful

as the feeling of loneliness.

                                                                            - Pankaj Mala Bhattacharya