"Kanha , Have I bought; the price he asked I paid ;
Some cry , "Too great", while others jeer," 'T was small";
I paid in full, weighed to the utmost grain ,
My love, my life, my self, my soul, my all. "
~ Mirabai(E.L Turnbull)
From the diaries of Princess Mirabai ...
In a paragon of the abstract
The supreme reigning fact
a statement of staunch belief , a faith translated ,
In triumph over the unconquerable , victory delineated.
an unbound , free sense of truth demands
a pedestral beyond what classification commands
In potrait ;in essense
In obeisance; in reverence
of a love that transcends its own boundaries
from the corrupting clutches of convention it flees
The tumult of thought put to a premanent rest,
the everlasting victory of self-conquest
me and my silence ..are forever friends,
Involved and engrossed..in a conversation that never ends..
the first oath , the first promise
is unswerving allegiance to one's own premise
An upliftment of the soul ,
An innate independence , a beautiful resonance of the whole
An emotion of unbridled exhilaration,
When to the self, the self becomes an inspiration,
An inner equation of essence deciphered,
A higher state of living acquired.
When the consequent emotion cosumes all ;
When singularity of thought governs the divine protocol
The union of self with the unattainable ,
when darkness and light become indistinguishable,
When godliness pervades the mind ,
When the futility of existence is left far behind.
From the tangled , aimless milieu of thoughts , one state of being emerges;
When an ultimate peace reigns within, to which each and all converges ,
When a trance stays on through nights and days,
when through each spoken word , divinity itself conveys.
Attainment of the pinnacle of possibility,
since now and forever ...a continuing self-discovery.
A stand of equanimity against the dislocating dynamism that operates ,
In a giant leap across the chasm , the shallow "knowledge" of all evaporates,
What remains is a pure nothingness;
The first fresh morning of the soul's regress.
An overpowering thought, a precise passion
An association with light , an indelible impression
A compilation of all that was and is ,
An exaltation of life , a catharsis.
The most enriching tribute to existence,
Through the veins of a troubled conscience, a purging renaissance
Thoughts traversed , judgements surrendered ,
In absolute blankness, the eternal expression discovered .
When the revered is surpassed by the sheer greatness of reverence ,
When love and the loved lose meaning and difference,
The gratifying thought is all that prevails ,
The aura of faith nurtures , the identification of the object fails.
A unique solution , a secret pleasure,
That rational wrappers of knowledge can never fathom or measure.
No justification , explanation, or want of credence,
A simple , uncorrupted unguarded deference.
An acme of concentration , the zenith of convergence,
The invincibility of a vulnerability that seeks no defence.
A soft submission of a nascent mind , to a reach beyond the guarded,
The ecstasy that can not be shared, the robes of normalcy discarded.
Like the simple manner in which water satiates,
Like the grace with which darkness light dissipates.
Like when one and only one emotion throughtout permeates
Like unto its highest , it to itself , perpetrates.
A feeling with no comparable description ,
A supreme liberation ..with the master's permission.
In the midst of opposites each day,
we painfully struggle to find a way..
Like that path has been found,
lit with confirmation, where no contradictions question and hound.
Differences become immaterial to the inner harmony that reigns,
A continuing end, an everlasting conclusion that seeks no means.
In the big book from the heavens , I always searched for me ,
One day I found my name , merged with an expression of thee.
I amalgamated into and beyond myself and you,
My entirety ..a single thought could contain and embue.
Dedicated to the unknown , I bask in the dedication ,
Slave to the greatness, I see my glory in the submission.
Like the first flow through a choked lane,
like the welcome realization of that lost sense of want and pain.
Like moving across destiny's waters and getting drowned,
The day my identity dissolved in them...the real princess was crowned.
To submerge in tranquility
to taste divinity,
to connect with life,
In a relationship of primordial simplicity.
I bond with the eternal , I fly away in time
I float in music , I am chanted in rhyme.
I am the lost , I am the found ,
I am the silence , I am the sound,
I am the sanity of an immeasurable magnitude
I am the assimilation of an infinite gratitude..
I am a thought in a crystal clarity
I am the completeness of a definite finality
I am...the indefatigable spirit that thrives in the core,
I am the evolution..the because..the only, the thus ...the therefore..
I am.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
WHERE SHE COULD BELONG...
Of a seed..
that had been wronged
taken away by that southern wind
from where she had belonged..
From an unknown seed carried by the southern wind you came ,
the unnoticed nook in the wall captured you forever , to hold ,to own and tame..
from where did you come ,uninvited, you never revealed
within yourself the part , the whole ...you always concealed
so long as you were quiet ..the walls ignored your presence,
in each moment of a constant change ...the inactivity as a pretence
then on a gray day...the first rain was here
the water that had tasted that earth ...which to you had been dear
that blinded the closed eyes..with a sunshine never seen
that stimulated the touch of ...the dew drops that had never been
that treasure of the soul...that rested in sleep since long ago
woke up in surprise....to know of the rain...to welcome her flow
the metamorphosis...the rain-brought realization of a new form
since the last casual journey with the treachrous winds,a permanent adherence to a new norm
the little roots , the first leaf.. that special shade of green
very much like that faraway tree...you have never even seen
each day...you spread a little more than yesterday
with the evening breeze...you freely chatter and sway
that incessantly fluttering little leaf , so pleased with the breeze
the slight crack in the wall..the width always on an increase
this way ,that way...you move in a careless mirth ,
how long shall the roots bind you .. to the lost touch of the earth,
a slight perturbation,a monstrous change
when in betrayal of the puffy white clouds, stormy patterns arrange
one day..the walls shall revolt and the storm will merge with the rain
the little leaves will be humbled and the roots shall know the pain
the rain dictated by the storm's ambition
here to strike with an insider's permission
to uproot that statement of identity carved in the wall
to conspire with the power of the wind..to witness this fall
the nook was never yours, it was losing patience
the roots held onto foolishly , a powerless defence
it was a pattern of hurt in a veil of ownership ,
a dominance so stealthily stolen , a feigned partership,
the rain came again in silence and mourned with the scent you had known
of the land that you could hold on forever , of where a tree had grown
All was lost ..only a hope just remained ,
long after the the storm was gone..and the crying heavens had rained ,
of a meeting with "that" green ,whose part here did flourish
of once smelling that land of birth..that could protect and nourish
of a sight of a frivolous movement to the wind's direction
of a childhood carefully groomed ...under the earth's sturdy supervision
of this the last leaf had dreamt ; clinging to the wall...praying all along..
to fly with southern wind one last time...to "that" tree where she could belong..
that had been wronged
taken away by that southern wind
from where she had belonged..
From an unknown seed carried by the southern wind you came ,
the unnoticed nook in the wall captured you forever , to hold ,to own and tame..
from where did you come ,uninvited, you never revealed
within yourself the part , the whole ...you always concealed
so long as you were quiet ..the walls ignored your presence,
in each moment of a constant change ...the inactivity as a pretence
then on a gray day...the first rain was here
the water that had tasted that earth ...which to you had been dear
that blinded the closed eyes..with a sunshine never seen
that stimulated the touch of ...the dew drops that had never been
that treasure of the soul...that rested in sleep since long ago
woke up in surprise....to know of the rain...to welcome her flow
the metamorphosis...the rain-brought realization of a new form
since the last casual journey with the treachrous winds,a permanent adherence to a new norm
the little roots , the first leaf.. that special shade of green
very much like that faraway tree...you have never even seen
each day...you spread a little more than yesterday
with the evening breeze...you freely chatter and sway
that incessantly fluttering little leaf , so pleased with the breeze
the slight crack in the wall..the width always on an increase
this way ,that way...you move in a careless mirth ,
how long shall the roots bind you .. to the lost touch of the earth,
a slight perturbation,a monstrous change
when in betrayal of the puffy white clouds, stormy patterns arrange
one day..the walls shall revolt and the storm will merge with the rain
the little leaves will be humbled and the roots shall know the pain
the rain dictated by the storm's ambition
here to strike with an insider's permission
to uproot that statement of identity carved in the wall
to conspire with the power of the wind..to witness this fall
the nook was never yours, it was losing patience
the roots held onto foolishly , a powerless defence
it was a pattern of hurt in a veil of ownership ,
a dominance so stealthily stolen , a feigned partership,
the rain came again in silence and mourned with the scent you had known
of the land that you could hold on forever , of where a tree had grown
All was lost ..only a hope just remained ,
long after the the storm was gone..and the crying heavens had rained ,
of a meeting with "that" green ,whose part here did flourish
of once smelling that land of birth..that could protect and nourish
of a sight of a frivolous movement to the wind's direction
of a childhood carefully groomed ...under the earth's sturdy supervision
of this the last leaf had dreamt ; clinging to the wall...praying all along..
to fly with southern wind one last time...to "that" tree where she could belong..
Thursday, April 26, 2007
OF A FREE BIRD...
ek svachand panchii ke par-on mein chipa aasmaan ka vistaar
yatharth ki dor se pare....aseemit aakankshaaon ka aadhaar...
of a free bird...liberated , undeterred,
of the wings of freedom ..unending, untethered,
the eternal romance of flight with the skies..
the indefinite equation where no boundary applies..
the sacred forbidden route to a chaos now identified
the weird shape of the cloud of thought forever justified
the journey with no promise to return
the care without motive or concern
of a flow , an inundated movement
independent , unbound, resurgent
of a lost sense of what "ought" ,
of an ecstasy of a choice since forever sought
of words that melt held notions,
that challenge hidden questions...fuel discussions..
on a vast canvas in a stretch of infinite dimension,
a newly painted interpretation that seeks no affirmation
of a flood that enriches as it engulfs in entirety
of a deep bond not corrupted by a displayed affinity..
of a thoughtless love...of a thoughtful solitude
of a victory celebrated..with a loser's attitude
of letting go all caged and imprisoned in the self somewhere.
no more the nervous glance..now a piercing stare
abandoning questions ..an elopement with the answers
to forget the words that formed ...to appreciate the jumbled letters
to experience an inner revolt ; to be wary of acceptance
to turn back and, with pride, reject the inviting entrance
for once..to follow the inner steps with closed eyes
to let go of reality for the imagination that flies..
to visit her land...to know her soul
to begin the journey.. to forget the goal
to borrow some dreams from her again
to speak in my own language..without having to explain
to see everything as she dictates
as my shackled expression she liberates
across her..beyond her
to..conquer , to..surrender
in the whirlpool of a comforting illusion
in the long awaited flight for migration
of my first desire..of my last will
of an escapade with freedom.. of the nascent thrill
a melting dream of wax wings...carefully moulded and sintered...
the first flight to the blazing sun...of a free bird ..
yatharth ki dor se pare....aseemit aakankshaaon ka aadhaar...
of a free bird...liberated , undeterred,
of the wings of freedom ..unending, untethered,
the eternal romance of flight with the skies..
the indefinite equation where no boundary applies..
the sacred forbidden route to a chaos now identified
the weird shape of the cloud of thought forever justified
the journey with no promise to return
the care without motive or concern
of a flow , an inundated movement
independent , unbound, resurgent
of a lost sense of what "ought" ,
of an ecstasy of a choice since forever sought
of words that melt held notions,
that challenge hidden questions...fuel discussions..
on a vast canvas in a stretch of infinite dimension,
a newly painted interpretation that seeks no affirmation
of a flood that enriches as it engulfs in entirety
of a deep bond not corrupted by a displayed affinity..
of a thoughtless love...of a thoughtful solitude
of a victory celebrated..with a loser's attitude
of letting go all caged and imprisoned in the self somewhere.
no more the nervous glance..now a piercing stare
abandoning questions ..an elopement with the answers
to forget the words that formed ...to appreciate the jumbled letters
to experience an inner revolt ; to be wary of acceptance
to turn back and, with pride, reject the inviting entrance
for once..to follow the inner steps with closed eyes
to let go of reality for the imagination that flies..
to visit her land...to know her soul
to begin the journey.. to forget the goal
to borrow some dreams from her again
to speak in my own language..without having to explain
to see everything as she dictates
as my shackled expression she liberates
across her..beyond her
to..conquer , to..surrender
in the whirlpool of a comforting illusion
in the long awaited flight for migration
of my first desire..of my last will
of an escapade with freedom.. of the nascent thrill
a melting dream of wax wings...carefully moulded and sintered...
the first flight to the blazing sun...of a free bird ..
Monday, April 16, 2007
THE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND..
like the unnoticed continuous rhythm of breath in each passing moment,
like the quiet monotonous acceptance of each nameless event,
like the inability to distinguish between the voluntary and the fated,
like the forgotten description of what you had once owned and created ,
like the dance steps that cease to define movement,
like the similarity forcibly assigned to the widely different ,
like the order imposed without a rebellion,
like the prosaic alikeness of all of a million..
like the music that has a dull harmony without a soul,
like the pendulum that oscillates without a particular goal.
like a stuck chord ;like a frozen drop
like a marathon walk; like a sudden stop
like an unfamiliar comfort in a dull similitude,
like a nonchalance smeared over a thinker's attitude
like an unsaid agreement with circumstance,
to float and live in a self chosen instance
like the frozen expression of a portriat to keep
like the unrest in emotions sent to a cosy sleep
like a thought arrested ;like the past visited
like a little present ;like the many gifted
like a bit of yesterday like a bit of today
like all together...the same..everyday
like the definition of average ..
like an unexplained bondage
like discovering an identity in being lost
like the comforting numbness of a winter frost
like a stillness not followed by disaster
like a tomorrow that will want no answer
like a direction beyond identification
like a journey without destination
like lots of thoughts sans organisation
like a chronic disease that eludes prescription
like a strange locking into a shy stability
like a surprising pact with adaptability
like an innocent laughter without derision
like a complacence inspite of a blurred vision
like the unwilling slow movement towards an impending change
like the settling into an odd warmth..unknown and strange
like a contentment without purpose and form
like the heaviness in the air before a storm
like an insecurity masked in resignation
like a half-heartedly conquered apprehension
like leaving for the waters ..away from your land...
like looking back...in a thoughtful glance... at the footprints in the sand..
like the quiet monotonous acceptance of each nameless event,
like the inability to distinguish between the voluntary and the fated,
like the forgotten description of what you had once owned and created ,
like the dance steps that cease to define movement,
like the similarity forcibly assigned to the widely different ,
like the order imposed without a rebellion,
like the prosaic alikeness of all of a million..
like the music that has a dull harmony without a soul,
like the pendulum that oscillates without a particular goal.
like a stuck chord ;like a frozen drop
like a marathon walk; like a sudden stop
like an unfamiliar comfort in a dull similitude,
like a nonchalance smeared over a thinker's attitude
like an unsaid agreement with circumstance,
to float and live in a self chosen instance
like the frozen expression of a portriat to keep
like the unrest in emotions sent to a cosy sleep
like a thought arrested ;like the past visited
like a little present ;like the many gifted
like a bit of yesterday like a bit of today
like all together...the same..everyday
like the definition of average ..
like an unexplained bondage
like discovering an identity in being lost
like the comforting numbness of a winter frost
like a stillness not followed by disaster
like a tomorrow that will want no answer
like a direction beyond identification
like a journey without destination
like lots of thoughts sans organisation
like a chronic disease that eludes prescription
like a strange locking into a shy stability
like a surprising pact with adaptability
like an innocent laughter without derision
like a complacence inspite of a blurred vision
like the unwilling slow movement towards an impending change
like the settling into an odd warmth..unknown and strange
like a contentment without purpose and form
like the heaviness in the air before a storm
like an insecurity masked in resignation
like a half-heartedly conquered apprehension
like leaving for the waters ..away from your land...
like looking back...in a thoughtful glance... at the footprints in the sand..
Saturday, April 07, 2007
IN A LITTLE BASKET..
each day..I knew it was going some new way..
I wondered if I could hold on time...I wondered if it could stay..
I somehow remember again today..
how a part of me..to it I gave away..
the first gift..I dared to give..
the first wait..I chose to live..
painting a soiled canvas or dressing a scar,
admiring the petals of a crushed flower.
vulnerability of power
thirst that preceeds a long awaited shower
smile that mocks pain
helplessness that struggles in vain
folds in a crushed paper ...which can never be erased
the crisp originality of first dreams..that reality never brazed..
the first cautious step ...the insecurity in confidence,
the excitement to begin walking...the weakened self defence
in the expanse of my palm..to collect and hold tight..
my most precious treasures..my wrong and right..
a million words , carefully chosen
a dried leaf ...of that winter season
my sketches in time,
my first nursery rhyme,
my notes on life...dated long back,
my dreams , my beliefs...from that sacred stack..
my sea-shells ...my bedtime stories and tales,
my coloring book..my collection of old cards and mails.
the pitter patter of a someday rain ,
the rhythm of a faraway passing train
steps carved out in wet soil,
"wrapped"... a part of me in a silver foil...
I dedicated all this...I put it in a little basket ...
to the flow of the stream i then gave forever..my treasured casket..
no assurance, no confirmation
but I still wait ...in sheer anticipation..
an isolated untarnished optimism demands of me..
to trust that in the turbulent waters...a reflection of myself I shall someday see..
I wonder if it even remembers or thinks..
as deeper each day..my hope and my casket sinks..
I do not seek a forced retrieval..
I do not want a deliberate recital
But someday..I want it back..untouched preserved
my submission of self...that the waters never deserved...
I wondered if I could hold on time...I wondered if it could stay..
I somehow remember again today..
how a part of me..to it I gave away..
the first gift..I dared to give..
the first wait..I chose to live..
painting a soiled canvas or dressing a scar,
admiring the petals of a crushed flower.
vulnerability of power
thirst that preceeds a long awaited shower
smile that mocks pain
helplessness that struggles in vain
folds in a crushed paper ...which can never be erased
the crisp originality of first dreams..that reality never brazed..
the first cautious step ...the insecurity in confidence,
the excitement to begin walking...the weakened self defence
in the expanse of my palm..to collect and hold tight..
my most precious treasures..my wrong and right..
a million words , carefully chosen
a dried leaf ...of that winter season
my sketches in time,
my first nursery rhyme,
my notes on life...dated long back,
my dreams , my beliefs...from that sacred stack..
my sea-shells ...my bedtime stories and tales,
my coloring book..my collection of old cards and mails.
the pitter patter of a someday rain ,
the rhythm of a faraway passing train
steps carved out in wet soil,
"wrapped"... a part of me in a silver foil...
I dedicated all this...I put it in a little basket ...
to the flow of the stream i then gave forever..my treasured casket..
no assurance, no confirmation
but I still wait ...in sheer anticipation..
an isolated untarnished optimism demands of me..
to trust that in the turbulent waters...a reflection of myself I shall someday see..
I wonder if it even remembers or thinks..
as deeper each day..my hope and my casket sinks..
I do not seek a forced retrieval..
I do not want a deliberate recital
But someday..I want it back..untouched preserved
my submission of self...that the waters never deserved...
Sunday, March 25, 2007
DISCOVERING "ME"..
In silence..with mometary quietus ..
Contemplate , ponder , discuss
In a single leap of thought..I traverse..
with a single line of poetry ..lands of emotions diverse.
The narrow boundary between love and hate..
The subtle distinction between overflow and satiate..
The slightly skewed self-communication..
A soliloquy ....a "me" in conversation
to pause at every crumple ...to further crease the memory,
every smile or tear captured...to compile the final story..
to smoothen out certain folds..that disturb the process of thought..
to fill in emotions where nothing remains..to calm a thirsty drought..
to arrange..to organise..all in the unwritten chronicles of the mind..
to gather some newer parts of self...to leave some old ones ...behind..
to mourn at what broke..my crystal vase of hope and light..
to remember its delicacy..and my foolish childish delight..
to let some colors in....from the pack of my childhood things
to set free some imagination...borrowed from the gift of wings ..
to hear the echo of laughter old ..
to remember secrets never shared or told..
to smile and cry together...to thus entertain confusion..
to hurriedly edit inundated sentiments...to clear the blurred vision
to rationalize..to sympathise..with idealism wounded and hurt ,
to learn to be accepting....of that occasional speck of dirt..
the half-hearted oscillations about where reality lives,
superimposed upon the creatively crafted ...the perceptions she forcefully gives..
to still learn to preserve and gradually own...
in the guise of circumstance...weeds of thoughts that have grown..
to recollect some..to still feel the anguish
to succumb to the darkness that gnaws..to then fail to distinguish..
to search for pure oblivion....forgetfulness as a defence..
to end the interaction in haste..to welcome a blissful ignorance
This occasional glimpse into those hidden thoughts...
which I not everyday unlock and see...
a little step of my eternal journey with myself...
of someday...discovering "me"...
Contemplate , ponder , discuss
In a single leap of thought..I traverse..
with a single line of poetry ..lands of emotions diverse.
The narrow boundary between love and hate..
The subtle distinction between overflow and satiate..
The slightly skewed self-communication..
A soliloquy ....a "me" in conversation
to pause at every crumple ...to further crease the memory,
every smile or tear captured...to compile the final story..
to smoothen out certain folds..that disturb the process of thought..
to fill in emotions where nothing remains..to calm a thirsty drought..
to arrange..to organise..all in the unwritten chronicles of the mind..
to gather some newer parts of self...to leave some old ones ...behind..
to mourn at what broke..my crystal vase of hope and light..
to remember its delicacy..and my foolish childish delight..
to let some colors in....from the pack of my childhood things
to set free some imagination...borrowed from the gift of wings ..
to hear the echo of laughter old ..
to remember secrets never shared or told..
to smile and cry together...to thus entertain confusion..
to hurriedly edit inundated sentiments...to clear the blurred vision
to rationalize..to sympathise..with idealism wounded and hurt ,
to learn to be accepting....of that occasional speck of dirt..
the half-hearted oscillations about where reality lives,
superimposed upon the creatively crafted ...the perceptions she forcefully gives..
to still learn to preserve and gradually own...
in the guise of circumstance...weeds of thoughts that have grown..
to recollect some..to still feel the anguish
to succumb to the darkness that gnaws..to then fail to distinguish..
to search for pure oblivion....forgetfulness as a defence..
to end the interaction in haste..to welcome a blissful ignorance
This occasional glimpse into those hidden thoughts...
which I not everyday unlock and see...
a little step of my eternal journey with myself...
of someday...discovering "me"...
Thursday, March 08, 2007
TO BE BORN A RIVER ..
The Ganges at sunset looks very beautiful..the rays of the setting sun create an orangish luminescence on her surface....
How would it be to be born a river..and witness this each day...
To be born a river, to wander for destinations,
To just be pure water , oblivious of stern definitions.
Pristine in form , bathed in sunlight,
the calm sheath unaware of the shimmering orange bright,
To carve a path , to leave a mark
colorless in my hands, black at dark.
To witness sunset and sunrise across her vast expanse,
The graceful meandering poses to humble and entrance,
To dwell with the starry skies at night,
To weave dreams of the silvery moonlight,
To be dressed in the silk of an exquisite elegance,
To roar in agony and then the powerless pretence,
To share aquaintance with the bird that flew,
To hum the song of the winter wind that blew.
To dictate the banks, to know their spread,
To lead with wisdom and yet still be led.
To know the boats that glide so swift,
to feel the pulse of the silent currents that drift.
by night, by day,
a constant momentum invited forever to stay.
to have no beginning, to have no end
to discover the pleasure of acknowledging each bend,
to hold in sacred trust , the deep secrets of the land,
to satiate, to nurture, the parched dry sand.
water upon water, thus to feel rain ,
one with itself, the sprinkled easing of pain.
Translucent watery eyes, with floating ,changing dreams,
they own none, just mirrors to the cast themes.
She has a story she never tells,
she shapes a rock but never dwells.
The detached attachment of a wanderer true,
She speaks to heaven's across the blue
She charts her own course , free to flow,
But only of the ocean she must know.
To merge and still contain,
To give up and still refrain.
to own an identity beyond what engulfs her whole,
to exist an existence she casually from the mountains stole,
to mystify with her raw sanctity,
childish anger, sacred divinity
to hold many names , to still elude description
to just tame water and yet kindle imagination.
an enormity beyond what my perception can deliver,
I smile at the evening thought ..."to be born a river" ..
How would it be to be born a river..and witness this each day...
To be born a river, to wander for destinations,
To just be pure water , oblivious of stern definitions.
Pristine in form , bathed in sunlight,
the calm sheath unaware of the shimmering orange bright,
To carve a path , to leave a mark
colorless in my hands, black at dark.
To witness sunset and sunrise across her vast expanse,
The graceful meandering poses to humble and entrance,
To dwell with the starry skies at night,
To weave dreams of the silvery moonlight,
To be dressed in the silk of an exquisite elegance,
To roar in agony and then the powerless pretence,
To share aquaintance with the bird that flew,
To hum the song of the winter wind that blew.
To dictate the banks, to know their spread,
To lead with wisdom and yet still be led.
To know the boats that glide so swift,
to feel the pulse of the silent currents that drift.
by night, by day,
a constant momentum invited forever to stay.
to have no beginning, to have no end
to discover the pleasure of acknowledging each bend,
to hold in sacred trust , the deep secrets of the land,
to satiate, to nurture, the parched dry sand.
water upon water, thus to feel rain ,
one with itself, the sprinkled easing of pain.
Translucent watery eyes, with floating ,changing dreams,
they own none, just mirrors to the cast themes.
She has a story she never tells,
she shapes a rock but never dwells.
The detached attachment of a wanderer true,
She speaks to heaven's across the blue
She charts her own course , free to flow,
But only of the ocean she must know.
To merge and still contain,
To give up and still refrain.
to own an identity beyond what engulfs her whole,
to exist an existence she casually from the mountains stole,
to mystify with her raw sanctity,
childish anger, sacred divinity
to hold many names , to still elude description
to just tame water and yet kindle imagination.
an enormity beyond what my perception can deliver,
I smile at the evening thought ..."to be born a river" ..
Friday, February 16, 2007
IN CHAOS, IN ORDER ...
"It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order--and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order. "
What is the limit to the resolution of perception
how to define perfection in understanding precision.
What is the dimension of multiple linked lines of thought,
how to smoothen the differences two different perspectives brought.
What is the limit of order
How to clearly set a definite border.
How to quantify , How to read,
Numbers that have been beyond limits freed.
How to not simply talk of infinity
But be well aquainted in a relation of simplicity.
How to erase the curves of questions,
With that single answer to all their versions.
How to integrate beyond imagination ,
The divide in the continuum of flow, this eerie distinction.
Where this melts , the difference ceases to exist,
Where visions beyond this reality begin to persist,
Where all this converges into a single enlightenment
a single explanation for every inexplicable development.
If I could grasp, If I could know
with an intuitive intimacy, the pattern in which complexities grow.
In calculative deductions, the touch of the artistic,
In the realms of logic, the first steps of the mystic.
to visit this borderline between madness and sanity,
to witness the arrival of a permanent eternity.
To live in that knowledge , to revere its gifts,
The immaculate understanding that never alters or drifts.
Thats all i seek , thats all i want to see..
The underlying mechanism that runs this world of thee.
In chaos , In order ,
in learning , in wonder ,
In humbling inspiration
In my ignorance and its realization.
In whatever beyond possiblity that could ever be..
In all my entangled definitions...just abide with me..
"Familiar, condescending, patient, free,
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Heaven's morning breaks, and Earth's vain shadows flee!
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me."
What is the limit to the resolution of perception
how to define perfection in understanding precision.
What is the dimension of multiple linked lines of thought,
how to smoothen the differences two different perspectives brought.
What is the limit of order
How to clearly set a definite border.
How to quantify , How to read,
Numbers that have been beyond limits freed.
How to not simply talk of infinity
But be well aquainted in a relation of simplicity.
How to erase the curves of questions,
With that single answer to all their versions.
How to integrate beyond imagination ,
The divide in the continuum of flow, this eerie distinction.
Where this melts , the difference ceases to exist,
Where visions beyond this reality begin to persist,
Where all this converges into a single enlightenment
a single explanation for every inexplicable development.
If I could grasp, If I could know
with an intuitive intimacy, the pattern in which complexities grow.
In calculative deductions, the touch of the artistic,
In the realms of logic, the first steps of the mystic.
to visit this borderline between madness and sanity,
to witness the arrival of a permanent eternity.
To live in that knowledge , to revere its gifts,
The immaculate understanding that never alters or drifts.
Thats all i seek , thats all i want to see..
The underlying mechanism that runs this world of thee.
In chaos , In order ,
in learning , in wonder ,
In humbling inspiration
In my ignorance and its realization.
In whatever beyond possiblity that could ever be..
In all my entangled definitions...just abide with me..
"Familiar, condescending, patient, free,
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Heaven's morning breaks, and Earth's vain shadows flee!
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me."
Saturday, February 10, 2007
THE BOOK REVIEW..
A casual thought, a slight remark,
stern demarcation by a comparison stark,
The smell of fresh print..... the strange delight,
Text read under shadows of a dim yellow light.
Thoughts reinforced, thoughts created,
opinions discarded, ideals venerated .
The book and me , alone.. inspite of the din,
Weaving a pattern of emotions...we thus begin
.....................................................................................
The first page begins with a dedication,
the rest vulnerable and open to interpretation
the ink changes, even the handwriting often,
smudged with tears.. the pages soften.
in so many thoughful mirrors; multiple reflections,
with time some fade, mere optical illusions,
some crosswords confront, some words perplex,
unsaid understanding yields to a vocabulary complex.
The words are known , by meaning well,
But their precise purpose is difficult to tell.
To grasp the core , and leave the rest,
In least words , conviction conveys the best.
flip a few more, still the constancy prevails,
through the entwined accounts, a single theme pervades.
that theme, that crystallised agglomeration,
to dreams, to life , to light : an eternal affirmation.
stories begin , chapters end,
with changing seasons, changing trend,
but a dry petal, leaves preserved ,
bookmarked notes, instances well-observed.
underlined in pencil, some line of thought,
erased after a while, the meaning no more sought.
All these seek a definition beyond it all,
reaching high without claiming tall.
A fruitful journey, the path to realization.
a few digressions , and "self-preservation"
Turn back a few pages, reassurance,
that single binding thread, her presence,
All pages are in white ahead,
And the last has not yet been read.
Enough written , enough told,
dreams shared, this page I fold
...........................................................................
To complete, to conclude, to judge anew,
Time shall be back....to refresh, to renew
these closing lines for" the Book Review".
stern demarcation by a comparison stark,
The smell of fresh print..... the strange delight,
Text read under shadows of a dim yellow light.
Thoughts reinforced, thoughts created,
opinions discarded, ideals venerated .
The book and me , alone.. inspite of the din,
Weaving a pattern of emotions...we thus begin
.....................................................................................
The first page begins with a dedication,
the rest vulnerable and open to interpretation
the ink changes, even the handwriting often,
smudged with tears.. the pages soften.
in so many thoughful mirrors; multiple reflections,
with time some fade, mere optical illusions,
some crosswords confront, some words perplex,
unsaid understanding yields to a vocabulary complex.
The words are known , by meaning well,
But their precise purpose is difficult to tell.
To grasp the core , and leave the rest,
In least words , conviction conveys the best.
flip a few more, still the constancy prevails,
through the entwined accounts, a single theme pervades.
that theme, that crystallised agglomeration,
to dreams, to life , to light : an eternal affirmation.
stories begin , chapters end,
with changing seasons, changing trend,
but a dry petal, leaves preserved ,
bookmarked notes, instances well-observed.
underlined in pencil, some line of thought,
erased after a while, the meaning no more sought.
All these seek a definition beyond it all,
reaching high without claiming tall.
A fruitful journey, the path to realization.
a few digressions , and "self-preservation"
Turn back a few pages, reassurance,
that single binding thread, her presence,
All pages are in white ahead,
And the last has not yet been read.
Enough written , enough told,
dreams shared, this page I fold
...........................................................................
To complete, to conclude, to judge anew,
Time shall be back....to refresh, to renew
these closing lines for" the Book Review".
Saturday, January 20, 2007
IN SEARCH OF..
Khoj
In search of..
an ephemeral eternity,
an artificial tranquility,
cherished silences,
well-meant promises.
In search of..
the moon on a moonless night,
the inner light in the outer bright.
sunshine on a cloudy winter day,
Some childhood games I still can play.
In search of..
the ability to see and discern
the first lesson I am yet to learn.
belief faith patience
beyond words stories pretence.
In search of..
me myself mine
curvature in a straight line.
the supreme equation
the clarity in that single definition.
In search of..
the faith beyond reason,
the never changing season.
the forgotten indictment,
the final judgement.
In search of..
realigned emotions,
vivid visions.
an understanding without attempt,
Acceptance without contempt.
In search of..
The burden of reality,
borne with a humbling tenacity,
Beauty in all simplicity,
Innocent rawness in creativity.
Honesty in appreciation,
A delicately succint expression.
In search of..
The taste of the winds of change,
Circumstances I can craft and arrange.
Illusions that shatter at the first touch,
destinations reached without walking much.
In search of..
the permanent reflection,
the divinity in perfection.
a non-rehearsed presentation,
the first draft of a dedication.
In search of..
amateur painting , jumbled handwriting,
clumsy embriodery, out of tune singing,
unreasonable idealism that clings,
dreams without wax wings.
In search of...
eyes that don't complain,
three dimensions on a single plane.
experiences that don't teach,
empathy without the desire to preach.
In search of..
conclusions for the endless,
dismay in distress,
admissions of blunder that can undo,
the white smeared over the sky-blue.
In search of..
Baffling conundrums , simple solutions.
That Single word , million connotations,
Poetry composed without a thought,
Unstinting support when least expected or sought.
In search of...
the last number I can count,
the most beautiful memory to create and recount,
a rendezvous with life , the every day meet
In search of..
The ground beneath my feet.
In search of..
an ephemeral eternity,
an artificial tranquility,
cherished silences,
well-meant promises.
In search of..
the moon on a moonless night,
the inner light in the outer bright.
sunshine on a cloudy winter day,
Some childhood games I still can play.
In search of..
the ability to see and discern
the first lesson I am yet to learn.
belief faith patience
beyond words stories pretence.
In search of..
me myself mine
curvature in a straight line.
the supreme equation
the clarity in that single definition.
In search of..
the faith beyond reason,
the never changing season.
the forgotten indictment,
the final judgement.
In search of..
realigned emotions,
vivid visions.
an understanding without attempt,
Acceptance without contempt.
In search of..
The burden of reality,
borne with a humbling tenacity,
Beauty in all simplicity,
Innocent rawness in creativity.
Honesty in appreciation,
A delicately succint expression.
In search of..
The taste of the winds of change,
Circumstances I can craft and arrange.
Illusions that shatter at the first touch,
destinations reached without walking much.
In search of..
the permanent reflection,
the divinity in perfection.
a non-rehearsed presentation,
the first draft of a dedication.
In search of..
amateur painting , jumbled handwriting,
clumsy embriodery, out of tune singing,
unreasonable idealism that clings,
dreams without wax wings.
In search of...
eyes that don't complain,
three dimensions on a single plane.
experiences that don't teach,
empathy without the desire to preach.
In search of..
conclusions for the endless,
dismay in distress,
admissions of blunder that can undo,
the white smeared over the sky-blue.
In search of..
Baffling conundrums , simple solutions.
That Single word , million connotations,
Poetry composed without a thought,
Unstinting support when least expected or sought.
In search of...
the last number I can count,
the most beautiful memory to create and recount,
a rendezvous with life , the every day meet
In search of..
The ground beneath my feet.
Friday, June 09, 2006
ON A RAINY DAY....
the meandering movement of a water drop on the surface of a leaf...
the hesistant reality that craves for confirmation..in submission to a belief..
Over the green...the drop rests..along the slight droop..
Some sleepy dream..to wake up....struggles within the thinking loop...
In preparation for the sunshine that will be...
Reflected from the water..some hidden rays i see...
I tighten my grip ..on the umbrella...i wonder about the angle of the rain...
drops of water on my hand....the effort is lost in vain...
I want ...to own and keep ....that leaf I had just seen...
The clouds will take away the day..I just cannot preserve the green...
The umbrella swirls .....and drops fall all around...
Here it is...smiling at me..the hidden memory that I have found...
I want to loosen the hold and let her go free...
Two kids walking in red raincoats ...right ahead I see...
I pick up the leaf now..and put these thoughts on it...
If...if I could hold a coffee mug in both my hands....and pause here and sit...
I brush away ...these silly thoughts...on a rainy day...
With the leaf in one hand....and my umbrella in the other..I smile...and walk away...
On a rainy day......
the hesistant reality that craves for confirmation..in submission to a belief..
Over the green...the drop rests..along the slight droop..
Some sleepy dream..to wake up....struggles within the thinking loop...
In preparation for the sunshine that will be...
Reflected from the water..some hidden rays i see...
I tighten my grip ..on the umbrella...i wonder about the angle of the rain...
drops of water on my hand....the effort is lost in vain...
I want ...to own and keep ....that leaf I had just seen...
The clouds will take away the day..I just cannot preserve the green...
The umbrella swirls .....and drops fall all around...
Here it is...smiling at me..the hidden memory that I have found...
I want to loosen the hold and let her go free...
Two kids walking in red raincoats ...right ahead I see...
I pick up the leaf now..and put these thoughts on it...
If...if I could hold a coffee mug in both my hands....and pause here and sit...
I brush away ...these silly thoughts...on a rainy day...
With the leaf in one hand....and my umbrella in the other..I smile...and walk away...
On a rainy day......
Thursday, June 01, 2006
AT THE END OF THE DAY.....
the smell of tea just made..the entire process of making it....
the day and my optimism about it...the mastered art of faking it...
the type-written words...i can still read the handwriting,
it will be a busy day..i will still miss something...
i look in the crowd...searching ..
in my ears the sound that never was...yearning...
my eyes are moist....somewhere it rains.....
i smile to a stranger..the tear stains...
i match my footsteps with the rhythm of a memory....
i hold myself close to me.....yet thoughts and dreams wander free....
i write some words..i forget the meanings...
i remember them so well..the hundred little things....
i untie what never was bound....
i imagine someone and turn around...
i talk to flowers that i can't pluck or touch even..
i give a thoughful smile to the setting sun......
i wait for a knock..for footsteps and a voice...
it constantly irritates me.....the machine's humming noise...
i learn..to talk to myself..and try to feel okay and nice...
but the pleasure of hearing you speak..this conversation denies...
the more people i see...the more i know..
that me and myself..to a few i completely owe...
how much...i want..my corner of the shore..
i wait..in anticipation..at the open door...
cautious steps ......the bend i often forget...
eaten alone quietly...that meal i regret....
but then....this realization is so precious ...
slowly the cloudy sky clears...
one day...someday....i will write again this way...
when not in memories but in the present my thoughts will play...
the journey of anticipation.....now my steps are faster ...
the breathing is heavier...but still i don't bother....
along this road..straight ahead...the "destination on the way"...
i will wait right there...with some thoughts..."at the end of the day".........
the day and my optimism about it...the mastered art of faking it...
the type-written words...i can still read the handwriting,
it will be a busy day..i will still miss something...
i look in the crowd...searching ..
in my ears the sound that never was...yearning...
my eyes are moist....somewhere it rains.....
i smile to a stranger..the tear stains...
i match my footsteps with the rhythm of a memory....
i hold myself close to me.....yet thoughts and dreams wander free....
i write some words..i forget the meanings...
i remember them so well..the hundred little things....
i untie what never was bound....
i imagine someone and turn around...
i talk to flowers that i can't pluck or touch even..
i give a thoughful smile to the setting sun......
i wait for a knock..for footsteps and a voice...
it constantly irritates me.....the machine's humming noise...
i learn..to talk to myself..and try to feel okay and nice...
but the pleasure of hearing you speak..this conversation denies...
the more people i see...the more i know..
that me and myself..to a few i completely owe...
how much...i want..my corner of the shore..
i wait..in anticipation..at the open door...
cautious steps ......the bend i often forget...
eaten alone quietly...that meal i regret....
but then....this realization is so precious ...
slowly the cloudy sky clears...
one day...someday....i will write again this way...
when not in memories but in the present my thoughts will play...
the journey of anticipation.....now my steps are faster ...
the breathing is heavier...but still i don't bother....
along this road..straight ahead...the "destination on the way"...
i will wait right there...with some thoughts..."at the end of the day".........
Monday, March 13, 2006
TIME...
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." - Ecclesiastes
I wish to talk to "time" today,
There is a lot I have to ask and say,
Time was "there" when I laughed and played,
Time was "somewhere" when blunders I made,
Time was musing..when I was lost in thought,
Time was ignorant..when with myself I fought.
Time has the colours,it owns the music,
In it.. coexist the ordinary and the artistic.
Time can paint..beautiful days,
Time can wash away my footprints..even on those well-known ways.
Time can be my best company..make me feel so nice..
Time can hurt by not caring..not even looking back as it flies..
Time can weave illusions..it can quietlty hold little dreams,
It can keep silly secrets..then suddenly leave me alone in reality where nothing is at it seems.
Time is the creator ..the one who ignites..
The dark sleeping corners of my thoughts..with a heavenly aura it lights..
Time knows my childhood..it was "then" ...
Time stays with me even now...in the making of "when"..
Sometimes...
It melts my inner tumult and I forget my unanswered queries,
When I see its tranquility...how with an undisturbed equanimity darkness and light it sees.....
It makes me feel so full of follies..the "me" who will always complain..
My failure to accept and understand its moves...with its silent grace it chooses not to explain.
It is eternal..tirelessly it flows..
It showers unexpected happiness and smiles....it renders sudden blows.
Time is the writer...of the pages that are to be my history..
Laughters pains..moments..it unravels my unnoticed,insignificant mystery.
Time is momentary....in beautiful moments that pass too fast,
Time is stationary....in the agony and pain that will for a lifetime last.
Time is 'mine'..with me it stays,
It gives me a new reality to accept ..then my dreams it betrays.
Time is the healer,the one who protects,
first it hurts with a thoughtless ease...then it seemingly regrets.
It sometimes listens when I sing and I say,
It sways with the winds...gives me hope when I pray.
In time I was..I am and I shall be,
Sometimes I want to follow it with closed eyes..sometimes..I yearn to choose and see..
Time is a manifestation...the interpretation that I am left to contemplate,
It is the witness that acknowledges my existence..with neither love nor hate.
With the anxious waiting eyes of a child...I can but only guess,
The days that time weaves for me...for it lies not in my power to blame or bless.
My insignificance becomes a greater realization,
When i understand there is no choice but resignation.
I err and then I listen to memories that make me sad and weak,
Ignoring the present...only the "was" and "will" I seek.
Time is my inner calm..time is turbulence,
time maybe reality...time maybe sheer pretense.
In history..in monuments...in the endless space,
In growth,stagnation..in the gradual wrinkles of a face.
In winter fog..in autumn leaves..day and night,
In anticipation,apprehension...of what has been or what might.
In the now,then,when that I attempt to define here,
The unnoticed moment that passed away silently..someday..somewhere..
It can let thoughts flow freely...without bothering of consequence or importance,
It can just as easily control reality..in the unquestionable guise of circumstance.
Yet,there are some beliefs that time cannot create or make.
The faith in the existence of dreams and ideals,the desire for rainbows it cannot take...
I must rest my case thus......in all humility,
In appreciation and acceptance of this very second..and that unknown eternity.....
In blossoming flowers..in crushed leaves...in agony..in bliss sublime..
In everything around is somewhere hidden...the unchangeable writ of "Time".
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." - Ecclesiastes
I wish to talk to "time" today,
There is a lot I have to ask and say,
Time was "there" when I laughed and played,
Time was "somewhere" when blunders I made,
Time was musing..when I was lost in thought,
Time was ignorant..when with myself I fought.
Time has the colours,it owns the music,
In it.. coexist the ordinary and the artistic.
Time can paint..beautiful days,
Time can wash away my footprints..even on those well-known ways.
Time can be my best company..make me feel so nice..
Time can hurt by not caring..not even looking back as it flies..
Time can weave illusions..it can quietlty hold little dreams,
It can keep silly secrets..then suddenly leave me alone in reality where nothing is at it seems.
Time is the creator ..the one who ignites..
The dark sleeping corners of my thoughts..with a heavenly aura it lights..
Time knows my childhood..it was "then" ...
Time stays with me even now...in the making of "when"..
Sometimes...
It melts my inner tumult and I forget my unanswered queries,
When I see its tranquility...how with an undisturbed equanimity darkness and light it sees.....
It makes me feel so full of follies..the "me" who will always complain..
My failure to accept and understand its moves...with its silent grace it chooses not to explain.
It is eternal..tirelessly it flows..
It showers unexpected happiness and smiles....it renders sudden blows.
Time is the writer...of the pages that are to be my history..
Laughters pains..moments..it unravels my unnoticed,insignificant mystery.
Time is momentary....in beautiful moments that pass too fast,
Time is stationary....in the agony and pain that will for a lifetime last.
Time is 'mine'..with me it stays,
It gives me a new reality to accept ..then my dreams it betrays.
Time is the healer,the one who protects,
first it hurts with a thoughtless ease...then it seemingly regrets.
It sometimes listens when I sing and I say,
It sways with the winds...gives me hope when I pray.
In time I was..I am and I shall be,
Sometimes I want to follow it with closed eyes..sometimes..I yearn to choose and see..
Time is a manifestation...the interpretation that I am left to contemplate,
It is the witness that acknowledges my existence..with neither love nor hate.
With the anxious waiting eyes of a child...I can but only guess,
The days that time weaves for me...for it lies not in my power to blame or bless.
My insignificance becomes a greater realization,
When i understand there is no choice but resignation.
I err and then I listen to memories that make me sad and weak,
Ignoring the present...only the "was" and "will" I seek.
Time is my inner calm..time is turbulence,
time maybe reality...time maybe sheer pretense.
In history..in monuments...in the endless space,
In growth,stagnation..in the gradual wrinkles of a face.
In winter fog..in autumn leaves..day and night,
In anticipation,apprehension...of what has been or what might.
In the now,then,when that I attempt to define here,
The unnoticed moment that passed away silently..someday..somewhere..
It can let thoughts flow freely...without bothering of consequence or importance,
It can just as easily control reality..in the unquestionable guise of circumstance.
Yet,there are some beliefs that time cannot create or make.
The faith in the existence of dreams and ideals,the desire for rainbows it cannot take...
I must rest my case thus......in all humility,
In appreciation and acceptance of this very second..and that unknown eternity.....
In blossoming flowers..in crushed leaves...in agony..in bliss sublime..
In everything around is somewhere hidden...the unchangeable writ of "Time".
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
...........
words have also left me all alone tonight...
I do not know what it is that i really fight..
only tears i own...they are with me...
they take away a little pain.....i can no longer see...
i know it so well...this pain that pains..
i have heard the thundering skies...mercilessly it rains...
let me fly high...never ever to return...
let me not think,yearn...dream or discern...
let me be all alone....wandering without a destination..
without direction or judgement..let me own the thoughless definition..
i will not surrender ..i will rather in arrogance meet..
the darkness that grows within....my inner defeat...
nothing more to write...no words to express..
no more pain to hide ...no anguish to supress..
i have met and known them all...pain...darkness and fears...
i have seen how reality dissolves dreams...in those incessant tears...
i plead you to send them all away...for a while let me rest...
this fear that kills my dreams....this is my submission to its conquest....
I do not know what it is that i really fight..
only tears i own...they are with me...
they take away a little pain.....i can no longer see...
i know it so well...this pain that pains..
i have heard the thundering skies...mercilessly it rains...
let me fly high...never ever to return...
let me not think,yearn...dream or discern...
let me be all alone....wandering without a destination..
without direction or judgement..let me own the thoughless definition..
i will not surrender ..i will rather in arrogance meet..
the darkness that grows within....my inner defeat...
nothing more to write...no words to express..
no more pain to hide ...no anguish to supress..
i have met and known them all...pain...darkness and fears...
i have seen how reality dissolves dreams...in those incessant tears...
i plead you to send them all away...for a while let me rest...
this fear that kills my dreams....this is my submission to its conquest....
Sunday, January 22, 2006
BE WITH ME...
"..I leave my prayers to him alone,
whose will is wiser than my own."
hold my hand ..so that i do not fall down as i walk
hear me speak when i do not have the words to talk..
do not crush the fallen leaves under your feet...
be with me always...until we shall finally meet...
tell me where do i go..and why...
i fail to understand it all...though i often try..
i do not know the beginning and the end to it all...
that sinking feeling in my heart...as i fall....
the darkness which surrounds me...from outside and within..
the inner silence that echoes in my ears...despite the outside din...
dissolve them together...darkness and light..
indistinguishable now...the bleak and the bright...
the sad smile...laughter and pain...
tears flowing....the rhythm of rain...
the "nothingness" in everything..
the meaning in something...
the sharp bend i cannot see...
moments along the way which haunt me...
in definitions i do not know...
in thoughts that were lost somewhere in the flow...
in what i can perceive and what i cannot see...
in right and wrong...in every moment....."be with me"....
whose will is wiser than my own."
hold my hand ..so that i do not fall down as i walk
hear me speak when i do not have the words to talk..
do not crush the fallen leaves under your feet...
be with me always...until we shall finally meet...
tell me where do i go..and why...
i fail to understand it all...though i often try..
i do not know the beginning and the end to it all...
that sinking feeling in my heart...as i fall....
the darkness which surrounds me...from outside and within..
the inner silence that echoes in my ears...despite the outside din...
dissolve them together...darkness and light..
indistinguishable now...the bleak and the bright...
the sad smile...laughter and pain...
tears flowing....the rhythm of rain...
the "nothingness" in everything..
the meaning in something...
the sharp bend i cannot see...
moments along the way which haunt me...
in definitions i do not know...
in thoughts that were lost somewhere in the flow...
in what i can perceive and what i cannot see...
in right and wrong...in every moment....."be with me"....
Sunday, January 08, 2006
A REMEMBRANCE.........
smriti
The remembrance of someone or something....
a particular fragrance...a thought..a song..or a painting....
that brings back some thoughts lost somewhere within memories.....
like the sweet narration of nursery rhymes and forgotten childhood stories...
I remember....The smell of crayons in my hands..
The mud-palaces made in the sands..
The rusted chains of the swing and that attempt to reach the moon...
never did i know those days would pass-by so soon....
i often search for that silly little girl...who left me all alone...
i thought she would always be by me....but now i find her gone....
i want to collect together some things that i left behind..
in memory of those little pleasures that i will never again find,
its difficult to put in words...what it is all about...
in the attempt to see things in that utopian perspective...i shall fail beyond doubt
Its about... crying breathlessly and not knowing the value of tears..
being in a small ,simple world of your own...sans any fears..
its about..... getting hurt very easily and yet not knowing what is real pain
making paper boats that are sure to sink...and still..dancing about in the rain...
its about.........simplicity ..and a complete absence of complexity...
about ignorance and bliss...that oblivion which "should have been" unto infinity....
I remember... the little doll with big eyes....
the twinking stars high up above in the skies....
Its about... having lots of pencils and still not knowing how to write..
not knowing how words can hurt...easily forgetting the last days' fight..
its about......purity of thought ..and a warmth in the air..that can never again be found
amidst those deafening shouts... that unperturbed laughter that would resound...
its about......always being taught what is right and what is wrong..
yet knowing it better than so many others...the perfect tune of life's song...
i remember...the desire to own chalks of all colours that exist..
not caring whether dreams will ever become reality...having a long wish list.....
its about .......a me and a you...that is now no more....
its about how time changes...and waves fail to define the shore...
its about memories then....which will also soon fade away...
like broken toys .....forgotten friends....and "unmoulded" clay......
I remember......dreams left far behind...
happiness i will never again find...
Deep within...i still yearn for it....to feel once again the rainbathed earth on which I stood,
I long for smelling the wet sand....i long to relive that bygone childhood...
The remembrance of someone or something....
a particular fragrance...a thought..a song..or a painting....
that brings back some thoughts lost somewhere within memories.....
like the sweet narration of nursery rhymes and forgotten childhood stories...
I remember....The smell of crayons in my hands..
The mud-palaces made in the sands..
The rusted chains of the swing and that attempt to reach the moon...
never did i know those days would pass-by so soon....
i often search for that silly little girl...who left me all alone...
i thought she would always be by me....but now i find her gone....
i want to collect together some things that i left behind..
in memory of those little pleasures that i will never again find,
its difficult to put in words...what it is all about...
in the attempt to see things in that utopian perspective...i shall fail beyond doubt
Its about... crying breathlessly and not knowing the value of tears..
being in a small ,simple world of your own...sans any fears..
its about..... getting hurt very easily and yet not knowing what is real pain
making paper boats that are sure to sink...and still..dancing about in the rain...
its about.........simplicity ..and a complete absence of complexity...
about ignorance and bliss...that oblivion which "should have been" unto infinity....
I remember... the little doll with big eyes....
the twinking stars high up above in the skies....
Its about... having lots of pencils and still not knowing how to write..
not knowing how words can hurt...easily forgetting the last days' fight..
its about......purity of thought ..and a warmth in the air..that can never again be found
amidst those deafening shouts... that unperturbed laughter that would resound...
its about......always being taught what is right and what is wrong..
yet knowing it better than so many others...the perfect tune of life's song...
i remember...the desire to own chalks of all colours that exist..
not caring whether dreams will ever become reality...having a long wish list.....
its about .......a me and a you...that is now no more....
its about how time changes...and waves fail to define the shore...
its about memories then....which will also soon fade away...
like broken toys .....forgotten friends....and "unmoulded" clay......
I remember......dreams left far behind...
happiness i will never again find...
Deep within...i still yearn for it....to feel once again the rainbathed earth on which I stood,
I long for smelling the wet sand....i long to relive that bygone childhood...
Sunday, November 27, 2005
I WISH TO BELIEVE.....
when she din't say a word... you did not stop to listen to what she had to say,
she did not call you ...and you never seemed to look her way,
when it was all dark around...you din't notice her reflection,
in her apparent pride and deliberate arrogance u failed to sense the concealed affection
yet there was something in you that heard her speak when it was all quiet,
the appreciation of grace and finesse in all loud and bright....
many things are beautiful because they surpass reason and judgement...
to speak what you never intended to...and not to express what you meant...
there is a magnetic charm that the heavens bestow...
when its that magical moment....when pure emotions flow...
there is maturity..there is deep thought...
a reverence for the object whose affection is sought...
when all in her life went wrong...
when she couldn't be alone for long...
without unwanted words and explanations...
without pretensions and exaggerated expressions...
like a soothing yet silent moonlit night..
you led her once again to light...
what binds you to her...i do not comprehend..
it is because of the inexplicability...that a divine meaning is lend...
to dissolve with time...to occur in destiny...
to conquer fate...to exist in perfect harmony...
she may never still speak....yet her eyes hold...
the reassurance and confidence of having you near...as she sees her life unfold...
that gaze of a woman...with her man by her side...
the pride of being owned..to his will she shall forever abide...
the many words never spoken...between the two of you...
when language fails to express.......and words seem rather too few..
in those moments..in silent times...
i hear the resonating chord...the inner tune that perfectly rhymes....
its all too beautiful in the tale...
when reality beckons....dreams and stories fail.....
in beautiful dreams and in imaginative fantasies...
its all an illusion...for life has its fallacies...
yet the sweet thoughts always remain...
to think of life as joy and hope...and momentarily forget the accompanying pain....
beyond the end..may unto eternity you together sail...
sometimes..i wish to forget reality..... i wish to believe in a fairy-tale...
she did not call you ...and you never seemed to look her way,
when it was all dark around...you din't notice her reflection,
in her apparent pride and deliberate arrogance u failed to sense the concealed affection
yet there was something in you that heard her speak when it was all quiet,
the appreciation of grace and finesse in all loud and bright....
many things are beautiful because they surpass reason and judgement...
to speak what you never intended to...and not to express what you meant...
there is a magnetic charm that the heavens bestow...
when its that magical moment....when pure emotions flow...
there is maturity..there is deep thought...
a reverence for the object whose affection is sought...
when all in her life went wrong...
when she couldn't be alone for long...
without unwanted words and explanations...
without pretensions and exaggerated expressions...
like a soothing yet silent moonlit night..
you led her once again to light...
what binds you to her...i do not comprehend..
it is because of the inexplicability...that a divine meaning is lend...
to dissolve with time...to occur in destiny...
to conquer fate...to exist in perfect harmony...
she may never still speak....yet her eyes hold...
the reassurance and confidence of having you near...as she sees her life unfold...
that gaze of a woman...with her man by her side...
the pride of being owned..to his will she shall forever abide...
the many words never spoken...between the two of you...
when language fails to express.......and words seem rather too few..
in those moments..in silent times...
i hear the resonating chord...the inner tune that perfectly rhymes....
its all too beautiful in the tale...
when reality beckons....dreams and stories fail.....
in beautiful dreams and in imaginative fantasies...
its all an illusion...for life has its fallacies...
yet the sweet thoughts always remain...
to think of life as joy and hope...and momentarily forget the accompanying pain....
beyond the end..may unto eternity you together sail...
sometimes..i wish to forget reality..... i wish to believe in a fairy-tale...
Thursday, November 17, 2005
INTERPRETATIONS......
This is to some (of the many)words that I like .......words that have always turned "on" a definite thought or triggered a certain memory.......words that speak to me sometimes......
to say it all without saying a word...the "abhivyakti" through expressions..
to speak about everything and yet convey nothing .....the many such conversations...
a sudden moment of divine confirmation and nothing more...
no analysis ..no logic or justification.....simply the "anubhuti" pure....
the acceptance of the harsh reality...the "yatharth" that "seems",
the ring of darkness that surrounds a candle flame ...that darkenss that silently kills dreams..
the attempt to synchronize...to tune to perfection...
the "prayatn" beyond time and thought....the purity of dedication....
to say it all without saying a word...the "abhivyakti" through expressions..
to speak about everything and yet convey nothing .....the many such conversations...
a sudden moment of divine confirmation and nothing more...
no analysis ..no logic or justification.....simply the "anubhuti" pure....
the acceptance of the harsh reality...the "yatharth" that "seems",
the ring of darkness that surrounds a candle flame ...that darkenss that silently kills dreams..
the attempt to synchronize...to tune to perfection...
the "prayatn" beyond time and thought....the purity of dedication....
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
ITS NOTHING BUT A CHANGE....
the blossoming of flowers that spring brings,
when a butterfly leaves her cocoon...and spreads her wings..
when i don't want to go away ..yet time does not stop...
when she has to leave her cloud...the downward journey of a rain drop....
its nothing but a change....
when little birds who learn to fly...
leave their nests and reach for the sky...
when it pains to let go of what has been so dear..
when for a moment all i want is to have you near...
its nothing but a change..
when the places ...the streets and the roads i have always walked on..
no more bear my footprints....i have moved far ahead...and those days are gone...
when sometimes...the mirror refuses to know me...
there is an altogether different person i see...
its nothing but a change...
a moment of joy...and then tears..
the sunshine of optimism....then unknown fears...
to move ahead is not my will...
to befriend my fate ..i try still....
every step i take ..every word i speak ...
each day i live....the goals i seek..
seasons..people...colours...all change...
its all a flow.... inevitable and strange...
this momentary confusion..and then a new definition ...
sometimes gradual....sometimes an abrupt transition...
does my life understand me....do i understand her?
when i am hurt and wounded...does she care to bother?
to understand life...is to understand and know change..
for its all nothing ..... but a change.
when a butterfly leaves her cocoon...and spreads her wings..
when i don't want to go away ..yet time does not stop...
when she has to leave her cloud...the downward journey of a rain drop....
its nothing but a change....
when little birds who learn to fly...
leave their nests and reach for the sky...
when it pains to let go of what has been so dear..
when for a moment all i want is to have you near...
its nothing but a change..
when the places ...the streets and the roads i have always walked on..
no more bear my footprints....i have moved far ahead...and those days are gone...
when sometimes...the mirror refuses to know me...
there is an altogether different person i see...
its nothing but a change...
a moment of joy...and then tears..
the sunshine of optimism....then unknown fears...
to move ahead is not my will...
to befriend my fate ..i try still....
every step i take ..every word i speak ...
each day i live....the goals i seek..
seasons..people...colours...all change...
its all a flow.... inevitable and strange...
this momentary confusion..and then a new definition ...
sometimes gradual....sometimes an abrupt transition...
does my life understand me....do i understand her?
when i am hurt and wounded...does she care to bother?
to understand life...is to understand and know change..
for its all nothing ..... but a change.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
TO LIGHT....
to the passion of fire...to the subtle grace of yellow light,
to the inner illumination...to all scintillating and bright..
to the eyes that reflect....expressions so clear,
to the glow of happiness on the face...of someone very dear...
to the silver of the mirror...that can capture moments and reflection..
to the transparency of glass...the light that passes through inspite of the refraction...
to the candlelight flame that slowly dies away...
to the seven colours that are beautifully hidden in a light ray...
to the enlightening power of knowledge....that dispels my inner confusions
to that single light that guides my life...to the unclear horizons...
to the struggling beam that despite the growing darkness survives.
to the first gleam of the morning sun across the dark skies,
to the sheer beauty of the shimmering stars at night...
the tranquil light of the moon...that bathes the earth in white...
to the inner aura and goodness of some people...which brightens up my life too..
to that twinkle of wonder in a child's eyes...the innocence and purity that you can see through...
a word of gratitude to all this...
the light that creates shadows which i tend to miss...
to this light and the darkness which surrounds it....to happiness and prosperity,
to the warmth that illuminates my life..a heartfelt thanks to the grace of the almighty...
to the inner illumination...to all scintillating and bright..
to the eyes that reflect....expressions so clear,
to the glow of happiness on the face...of someone very dear...
to the silver of the mirror...that can capture moments and reflection..
to the transparency of glass...the light that passes through inspite of the refraction...
to the candlelight flame that slowly dies away...
to the seven colours that are beautifully hidden in a light ray...
to the enlightening power of knowledge....that dispels my inner confusions
to that single light that guides my life...to the unclear horizons...
to the struggling beam that despite the growing darkness survives.
to the first gleam of the morning sun across the dark skies,
to the sheer beauty of the shimmering stars at night...
the tranquil light of the moon...that bathes the earth in white...
to the inner aura and goodness of some people...which brightens up my life too..
to that twinkle of wonder in a child's eyes...the innocence and purity that you can see through...
a word of gratitude to all this...
the light that creates shadows which i tend to miss...
to this light and the darkness which surrounds it....to happiness and prosperity,
to the warmth that illuminates my life..a heartfelt thanks to the grace of the almighty...
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