Nangta, the Naked one
Stirred the fire afresh
As he discoursed to his disciple on
The evanescence of the earth
`Brahman alone is true’ he said
`All else is phantom mere’
He said as only a strong Punjabi could
His body yet to suffer here
Awesome sight by Ganga’s shore
Besides the blazing flames
Serpent-like matted locks he wore
Dreading no forms and names
A petty servant idled by
Stole a burning cinder
To light his tobacco pipe
The monk bellowed like thunder
The gentle disciple watched bemused
Lips parted in a smile
Nangta asked when talk resumed,
`Hideth thou what guile’ ?
`A moment Thou speaketh, master great
Of Brahman the Real One
In a trice thou fly in rage
Making a poor man run’
Stunned, the Great man stood quiet
A halo round his head
`Anger, I give up this instant’
No words truer said.
10.5.2002 (Direct into the computer)
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