In my dream came a female Rinpoche,
Who lived for hundred years on a steep hill.
I couldn’t say if she was for real ?
And asked villagers to show me her trail.
Climbing those never ending steps,
Holding the ropes and facing fears,
Tagging behind a mother too strict,
I reached a zenith from where a fall was so clear.
In the stone castle with rooms numerous,
Twisting and turning dark corridors,
With the lone light of an oversized candle,
I found her room and a servant by her bed.
But the moment I touched her she was in flames…
I rummaged her desk to find some notes and codes,
Some fashion magazines and accounts of household,
None of which I could make heads or tail !
Some said she was not the ‘Rinpoche’…
For she was long dead, She was an actress
Hired to fill her holiness’s place, Some said
She was an eternal bliss who would not age
And advisor to kings, but what made her burn …
Up in flames??? With all the doubts I hurled down the
Place, took a walk with my friends and had a yogurt.
By the time I finished it, I was in bed awake !!!
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Footnote: A sense of absurdity and amusement…