In this uncertainty, I am but a fleeting breeze,
Unbound by the myths that hold sway.
As life concludes its unfinished tales,
As the lark bids its final melody,
As the lotus folds its petals for the night,
Who are those awakening,
Laboring tirelessly to judge your sins,
Awaiting your arrival?
The Garuda Purana holds many tales,
Yet each crafts their own narrative,
Lost in their illusions.
You stride boldly upon the scroll,
Unaware of your past births and deeds,
Nor have you led an ascetic's life in the present.
Is there more beyond these corrections?
Is there a path that lies ahead?
Dr. SV Prabhath
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