Inside the Dark

friends pull me up inside their dreams

what strange nature of man

they hate the cookie after licking all its cream 

those who know me, alas!

those who don't, my God, savages they are

holding my head abraded my soul against my dreams

destroyed everything in me

scattered I am, oh poor me

trying standing up again

helpless, abashed and unseen

all over in pain for vanishing gains

Teachers the Merchants

the Fount of knowledge, a point of growledge,
the source of guidance, a spec in darkness; 
the shine twofoldly gleaming the doubled mind
a mentor in this misty fog, now too misty to find!
 
A perfect mind in an
immaculate heart of an
accurate form is a
concept not conforming!

Letters and Words, pages and leafs
smoothly order the apprentices to sniff the seeds; 
but, a relish so brief that wilts all the greens.

Listen to the truth that smarts,
Of the ploys, the pits and their Arts!

Teachers, the Merchants, sell the Smith's goods,
peddle their creations by hook or crook.

Earning the labour for telling a crafty story
to make us believe to buy the story.

All they know is the art of becoming 
the rest they know is called cunning

Costly and comely the deception 
in devastating dress of perception 

every time they wear it, we know it.
Hail to the teacher who comes naked!

Earnestly, I of the cunning dress speak
the dress with no garb, better than a chaotic cloth.

Real Merchants sell the goods and know the story,
unlike empty speakers of the  Smith's myth,
who shape their apprentices to be the Smith,
to create not just the goods, but to create the truth.

Sad it is to find the mystery
that exists in the Smith’s myth.
Like that unaccompanied mentor;
that exists like a mist amidst a mist!

Divine Me

Under the vast cloudy sky in a breezy air;
amidst the assembly of dancing blades
of a lonely pasture, I with my friend sprawling 
upon the towering leaves of grass.
Damp and soft they are under the eldritch smoky sky 
all patched with cloy’d nimbi of rainwater;
now just ready to drizzle the demulcent little drops.

   Now blows a soft odorous breeze 
   grips for a moment and cuddles me to sleep.
   Now caresses an ethereal diamondrop upon my cheek
   Wets my skin, slides itself and off it drips.
   Nothing is left but a minute essence it leaves;
   Penetrates down into my heart and now an awakening.

I and my friend, Mind, smiled in our deep felicity
Both remembering of the songs of joy and rhymes
Of peace, with hands crossed behind our heads
Thinking of the beauty of the worlds, and the worlds of beauty 

   “How shall I thank Thou, O Creator?” says my friend.
   Listening the question of my friend
   deepest feelings rose from within, 
   what pleasure it would be to thank the one we could see.

So, now I decide to tread the lands, (the ones I could)
To begin my quest, the quest of Truth
To find Thee anywhere, anywhere I could!

   They say travelling completes the journey of the soul
   I found mine still ever farther from my goal

Searching Thy traces in the winds, the ones I can
in the lands, in the seas, and wherever I can
Found Thee nowhere, nowhere I swear!
 
   I sought for Thou long ere in the skies;
   the skies of days and that of nights
   Found Thee nowhere I swear nowhere!
   For I know my vicious Mind, my thinking and rational mind
   Has no eyes opened yet to vision Thee, for every time 
   I pry into the skies, return my gazes weary and tired

Behold! Behold that rivening light 
shining and cleaving the dense clouds from behind
like a thunderstrike it falls upon my heart, that 
it isn’t enough to hold the lantern tight;
create a blaze empowered to show the path;
for only the unalloyed lights can ablaze the path;
the pure lights I mean;
the right paths I mean.

   Wonderstruck I become, 
   The way Thou knock and come
   through the unopened doors of my heart
   residing in the divine beatific form.
   It feels as if Thou haunt my soul;
   Make me drunk without the wine
   Make me ablaze without the fire
   The way Thou haunt my mind and my heart
   Oh how beautiful Thou art!
   How sublime Thou art!

O creator of all cosmos, 
Thou let me feel Thyself 
But ne’er allow Thyself
What Thou art, O God?
Where Thou art. O God?
Whence Thou art, my God?

   Answer,

   The one who can be niched in the finite Mind
   Cannot be Infinite and Divine
   Once who’s conceived by Thought
   Cannot be the one we call God.
   The heart is Thy home, not Mind
   Thy love is a wine, indeed, a wine
 
Thou exist nowhere on earth; 
yet exist everywhere one sees;
Thou art is there for man,
Of whatever stretch his Reach be.
Thou change thy form to suit the searching eye; 
Now I see Thou in the blooming bows, 
now I find Thee in the freezing sighs;
Now an Evanescence Thou have become
And have hidden somewhere we cannot see
now as an Existence Thou has appeared
and have resided your Throne in me.
Some say Thou do not exist,
they know not “Thou negated, Thou indicated, it means!”

  Answer me O Mind; answer me the question
  that comes from within:

  If He clicked not for once your thoughts
  Then how come I know that he is He?

I see, I see, at times I see 
some places, I see
the puzzled mazes, I see:

   I know, I know, now I know
   my heart is but a den of sins
   Alas, I never welcomed Thee,

Still a lot left to burn and destroy in me
to make the house pure and clean
to welcome Thee with my full heart
And make Thee my partner at last.

   I don’t know how, I don’t know how.
   How to make it happen?

I think I should travel and leave the housing systems
And live under this blessed sky, under Thy system.
But then a thousand new conflicts arise
Now I think to hide, and now I think to fight.

   Now all the way up t' my discovery path,
   the same old strife, I see, of
   what's real and what's thought.

Every time, an effigy of distress I become
when closely I see your horrible cults:
thousand instinctual conflicts on a single grain of sand; 
In a thousand pieces riven I see my Land hung.

   Somewhere the sweltering autumns of wrath I see 
   somewhere heavy deluges, blessings and peace,
   somewhere the hissing wrath of seas,
   and somewhere the  mountains in their silent splendour i see.
   forest here, a desert there, a garden here, a river there;
   such a manner of division goads me to weep.

Then I see,

   A bright sun in the hands of the day
   then the night, I see, arrayed 
   with the shining stars and the thin waning arch;
   somewhere are withered flowers of truth
   and somewhere the blooming spines of all false.

What filth this Night is?
What trifle is this Day? 
Which mark this Light fills? 
What murk this Dark is?

   I question of Truth to Thee;
   After all, I am too a creation of Thee
   Then why Thou dost say thus, “Never question me”?

A hue of wonderment imprints my heart
Makes me a puzzled picture of art
I cannot conceive what mystery is this
What loud mess thou created since the Time is?
Imprisoning the soul into the body’s pen
you guarded it then with a sentry of death.
Giving contrivance its flight
Then you sprinkled the air with fate.
Adorning the nature with balance and beauty
Then you devised plans to destroy it.
Evil, Virtue, Heaven and Hell
what flurry fluster is this, can you kindly tell?
For Adam’s crime you punish the sons
Is this the way Justice is done?

   They say travelling completes the journey of the soul;
   So now I should take my deluged body on a sojourn.

   Then my Mind orders: “Come, lets' go home!”

Calls me

The place that calls all things, calls me
I have to go and get ready 
The rage that tears all things, tears me 
I have to bleed, bleed again, without a gain
The sky that preys on all things, preys on me 
I have to stay. Steady. It's no play.

Family

My head on her lap, I see her
With my lips on her hand, I kiss her
Blood with soothing cool wave runs
Oh how lovely is my mother

A sacred body, the sublime whole
Immortal she is, so I supposed

The age brings truth in eyes
Death comes, then her heart is iced
My world shatters, my heart cries
She was not immortal and divine;
But a human being bound to die;

And my heart cries, aches, and whines
With my head on her heavenly lap
and my gaze on her dove-like eyes

I want to cry

For I know
that one day
Like my mother, 
all my friends and family shall DIE

And 

I,

like the letter "I" shall always remain alone
now this is what I am, and this is all I know

Life of Mistakes

Mistakes make the life
They drive the life, evolve it 
and bring it to an end
after which, they pity and condemn
and condemn as much as they could
and I with my sins ascend
and ascend as much as I could

Mistake begins the life and ends the life.
The mistake which brought you in the world 
And the mistake that you made afterwords.

My life is all in all 
errors, mistakes and faults.
Only a true master can forgive all,
and only He I trust and only He I love
For in return
Only He'll forgive and only He'll love

From up there, when I look down
The life keeps astounding the world
And my mistakes keep fondling my soul.

At the end, the very end of my life
I see and realize
that only three things forever remain
and I see again and again I realize
that only three things forever remain
               He
                I
and my mistakes.

Forgive it man!

I said.
Forget it man! And don't worry.
And I drank wine
And I slept on thorns all night.

I said.
Leave it man! And don't worry!
And I slept sleepless nights for decades.

Forgetting it didn't help me forget
Leaving it didn't help me sleep

Then one night

My heart said.
Forgive it man! And forgive more.
I sleep on flower beds from that night.

Forgetting stings the back of mind unawares
Forgiving keeps the mind calm and clear 

And now I ask you
Forgive it man! And don't worry.

Broken Vase

 A child once broke a vase
She knew not it was a mistake

Her parents saw the broken vase
Ticked off her upon her mistake

She sobbed, she cried, inside ashamed
She broke the vase to hear the cracking sound
Breaking heart was not her play

But, 

Her parents saw the broken vase
Ticked off her upon her mistake

Flame

Was a Flame -- have turned cold now
Have gone -- a hundred years from now

Was drunk, with the venom you gave
Have gone asleep a centuries from now

Was a Flame -- have turned cold now
Have gone -- and you are blowing me out?


(Inspiration from Ahmad Fraz's "Shola Tha Jal-bujha hun")

Honeyed Mind

We all live and die
with honey silos in minds
that serve our mass by drips,
and keep warmth and passion alive.

A mind full of honey
serves not only our own mass
but the masses of all natural and divine

Every mind is framed;
if mine doesn't fit yours
it doesn't make you lame

because,

We all live and die
with honey silos in minds.

Quagmire

A fresh walk besides a smelly gutter at home
A smelly thought of the fresh gardens of Rome 
Which freshness to cuddle in this quagmire?

Don't you listen to the morning call?
Oh the Creator of all Fresh, Rot and Gall
I ask you for help in this quagmire

I see two gems in the dark here
and there dark finds no place or prayer
Which side to choose oh God in this Quagmire?

On Water

This wanderer needs light
to tread the weedy paths right.
A few :
   flinging with each other ,
Many :
   killing the other.
These weedy shoots must be handled with might
or this wanderer will get entangled and drowned in that water of night.

This water needs force
to keep itself fixed and tight.
A tiny pebble on water can ripple the mighty ocean
Little droplets of time can split the mighty rocks asunder
Such is the brief story of the inner power on which you live and survive

Ripples emerging out  in my head
like little waves rippling out of this brain
I think, like water I should behave
So I might live the chaos and die the life
For the silent poise is death to water, the ripples a life!