A monk is lying on his death bed.
His transient moments filled with a last wish.
Before life bid adieu he wished to have a confession.
A confession of being a monk!
You called me – ‘a monk, a sage, a saint’.
But I have hiccup an utter guilt
An abhorrence of these nouns as taunt
With chocking breaths impatiently I am waiting for my last.
A sudden ignition of erudite vision broke the fortress
Erasing all notions between a monk and a human being
On nomadic trajectory wore and worn out attire
Peeling illusions one by one from wrinkled skin.
New found wisdom defines human being
Glorifying Free-Will in a nut shell
Even the Almighty never put any hamstring
to thy swirl of myriad temptations.
Lustrous human desires never spared
for the monk in me often consumed
the so called sins shielding as excuses.
Deep down in burdened silence going on
arguments and counter arguments
resulting in paralysis of analysis.
I fled and shun the ironical echoes.
Mask of saint plunged
When all preaching failed
The lie I was living buried alive.
From the grave it mocked back like a ghost.
For I am back to square one with the stark truth..
Today I am laughing and telling the story as a layman
Whilst discarding all bifurcation of zenith and nadir.
The realisation liberated me with an ultimate truth
And I remain on my death bed with shallow breathes.
As quanta parallels the dualism
Oh desires! To live, have the doping of foul play!
“Let me die as human being and not a monk” !
The candid confession of a dying monk
escaped the cage of mortality
when he breathed his last..
© Maaya Dev