Agnus Dei

Bells for many gods chime. A hunger aches within, silently seeking its own dawn offering.

February 10, 2026

1.
My origins cite a plethora of Gods, demi –gods
traditions wrapped in cultures
moored in mornings
that arrive as a symphony
of Aarti bells and church bells
alongside the first Namaz of the day.
To which God do I offer the early prayer?
My stomach is growling in hunger,
I am hung -over
deprived of the caffeine
that lies languishing on the table,
letting off steam into vaporous silences …
there are other Gods to be appeased.
Proximity is a dictator –
They dictate. I don’t.
In servitude lies my first unspoken prayer.
First Bhog then bhojan
The Gods are fed, the Lords are fed.
When is my turn, in this pecking order?
Oh Kali, Oh Shakti, Oh Divine Mother
To whom do I offer my hungered prayer?

2.
Chants fill the courtyard. Chants fill the street.
Still early in the morning still the hungry Gods
“Maha papaharam devam”,
a familiar voice prays in fervor,
watching watching me over,
watching me all over
with a hungry eye.
My stomach is a tiger, ready to pounce.
No chants issue from these lips
no roars of protest .
There is a need in time and a place, for a refuge
I feel numbed, my shadow is silent
Oh, Surya, Bhaghavan ,
who do I offer this mourning prayer?

3.
The first bell shatters birds into chirps
and in my land of many Gods,
I let the Sun walk in
soft dawn of another light
the world of night still in repose
In darkness, I am the perpetual hunger
arms,legs, a roaring tiger, the wounded spider
I flutter, my creaking bones bent backwards
Feed my Soul, Mahadeva .