He beckons.

Through the chiming of the bells,

The light of the ‘diya,’*

The blowing of the conch shells

And the chanting.

I hear a calling in

The muezzin’s ‘azaan,’#

The spires, steeples, domes

And calligraphed verses.

In the outstretched arms of the crucifix.

In the fluttering of the the prayer flags.

In the fragrance of the incense & and floral offerings.

In unexplained dreams seen only in the sleeping mind’s eye,

I sense an urge, a ‘bulava.’^

And I pay heed to the summons of the heart,

Walking towards, purposefully.

A devotee, a disciple.

Full of reverence and piety.

* diya = oil lamp lit in a clay pot at Hindu temples

# azaan = Muslim call to prayer

^ bulava = a calling



  1. What wonderful craftsmanship ! Its amazing how your carefully chosen words can bring the scene alive! Keep writing Kunal , I hear a calling in your words , you beckon and I come to read!

    Liked by 2 people


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