Religion

a poem by Mohit K Misra

The entire Buddhist monk’s life is but a preparation,
For his Death point or moment of separation.

The Jains have Santhara,
Quitting life consciously to join with the Paramatma.

Hindus go into Samadhi,
Where there is no Congress, BJP, Shiv Sena or Samajwadi.

The Christian merges with the holy spirit,
Peace, no more desperate.

The Sufi mystic to become one,
Dances, twirls, prays, trances to get the job done.

Aghora means illumined with Light,
Longing for Shiva in whom they delight.

Shamanism or the Art of Ecstacy,
The ultimate being one with the superentity,

There is no need to change your faith,
And on your old religion lay a wreath.