The twight Aarti

The fire Burns the inner impurities into insignificant ashes,As i surrendered myself at her heart' with succeeding palpitations and serenity in my Devotion. the camphor burns and burns only the privacy of my inner Self, languishing in the merky ambience in spite of my reluctance to nurture it. The flame of the brass lamp was rising and rising only to consign my pseudo - i ness and vanity into flames as I get drawn to the Sanctum sanctorum of mother Durga by a divine coincidence. Er.Subhasri Anindita Routray