Saturday, 20 October 2012


The garden is fresh with nascent blossoms

As the rays of the sun embrace me with warmth

The sky has cleared, and thunderclouds have retreated

The rainbow smiles in splendid colors of joy

Fluttering birds hum a happy tune

As they shake away the last of the raindrops in bliss

Yet, I sit here and worry of hypothetical storms!


The crickets’ creek in the moonless night

As the air is filled with arrant darkness

A lamp, lost to the emptiness

I search here in silent desperation!

Morning will be too late, I know

But what else can a lost soul do; but search in darkness

Through grasses and burrows; trees and mounds

Lamp- less and helpless

I feel and tap at every accessible terrain

Yet no glorious lamp I can find!

The terrain is too vast and my senses are too numb

I lament to myself!

What soul can I find in this darkness?

What light-less lamp can I find?

But when morning comes, and finds me searching

My time will be gone, and my show will be over!

As the sunlight of life finally engulfs my darkened soul!

Will I ever realize!  The lamp that I was searching for, was the one I had put out in my heart!


The lashing rain is pouring

Transient streams are flowing

Drawn by the wavy currents

A leaf lost in the monsoons

Floating along in peace

Nothing to watch for; nothing to wish for

No preferred time; no desired destination

Floating in ecstasy; taking the course of destiny

With every sudden change of course

How limitless is the bliss!

Sunday, 14 October 2012


The cold breeze blows over the murky greenness of the salacious pond

My knuckled hands of fear clutch desperately to my shrunken soul

My heart is racing and my mind is numb in horrid anticipation

The brackish green water is filthy and the pond is deep

My knees are shaky and my steps shuffle with hesitation

As time has come for me to dip into this squalid pond

I have sailed across mighty oceans, swam across the bluest of seas

I have bathed in the warm clear waters of the sacrosanct springs hidden in the highest mountains

But the turning wheel of fortune has now left me to the mercy of this smutty pond

As my feet wade into the chillness of the foul water, my worried mind wonders

Isn't the first dip, the coldest!

And after that, all the filth is but a wonted home

As the coldness is accustomed to and filth becomes a habit

Will I lose myself to the pleasures of filth?

Will I wade in the dirty pond with new found happiness?

Lost in the murkiness of the pond and comforted by the ease of swimming in it

Will I not let filth seep into my heart?

Will I not let the filth dilute the values of my soul?

Will I let empathy drown and let the blossom of concern rot away?

As I step into this water, and take my first dip

I gently remind my self

Only the first dip is the coldest!

So don’t let filth become a wonted home

Don’t lose yourself to the valueless currents of pleasure and the weeds of greed  

Remember your root, and remember the lotus blossom on the surface

 Remember the times spent in the warmth wisdom of the sacrosanct springs

As the coldness and fear plead with you one last time; it is but a desperate reminder

Telling you, don’t lose yourself to the filth!

But this coldness is loudest the first time; and then wanes away forever!

So friend, wading in chillness of the filthy pond!

The first dip is the coldest! The rest is a battle on your own! 


Smile; a veil that hides your heart

Eyes; a shield that hides your soul

Pride; a wall, you hide your wounds

Pomp; the fort, you hide your ignorance

Pleasure; the fruit that hides your delusion

Hope; the cloud that hides your fears

Self; the lie that hides the truth

Oh! Tell me dear friend!

What is that, you are hiding from?