Blue-Eyed Girl of Kumbha Mela
Poetry
Sanjay Bhatt
Amidst the sacred throngs, the chants, the hymns,
Where rivers meet and cleanse the sins,
A fleeting face, a stolen glance,
The media’s muse—a happenstance.
Blue-eyed girl, with tears that gleam,
Captured in a lens, a fleeting dream.
Not a saint, not a sage, nor divine lore,
Yet her sorrow floods the news once more.
Condemn, oh voices, the media's art,
To glorify pain, tear meaning apart.
For where are the saints in their holy glow?
The seers, the wisdom the world should know?
The Kumbha’s soul, its timeless grace,
Lost in the search for a single face.
While sages chant truths that could heal the land,
Their voices are buried in the media's sand.
A hundredfold, let judgment fall,
For shadows they cast on the sacred call.
O blue-eyed girl, your tears may tell,
But they’re not the heart of this holy swell.
Turn back to the light, the eternal flame,
Let saints and sages reclaim their name.
For the Kumbha is more than a fleeting cry—
It’s the meeting of heavens, earth, and sky.
