Arun Kolatkar's Jejuri

Kolatkar as the journey man Journeying, The travel man Travelling, The pilgrim Setting out on a pilgrimage, Going to Khandoba In a ramshackle bus Old and unable to carry And crowded With strange pilgrims The old and the weak And poorer, Widows and of all sorts The bus somehow going With the window panes Shattered and tattered, The colour and paints Discoloured Kept under sun and shower And lying out of use, But repaired for the purpose And in the same burs Kolatkar going to Khandoba With his faith and doubt In the age-old bus As if running on a cobbled street Going to Khandoba, Taking to. Kolatkar as a man Moustached and long-haired, The artistic guard Or the sculpted dwarpala, gatekeeper Going, Going to Khandoba With little faith In his heart, So much of skepticism, Doubt and suspicion In his soul, Twirling and twisting his moustache And cracking jokes.