Poem

What is a poem

if not a reflection

of the mystery of my being…

 

How can I claim authorship

or even meaningful intent

When my own existence

is as momentary

as a drawing in still waters.

Living on a prayer

I breathe who breathes

I am one, I am all

In the span of one breath

I rise and I fall.

 

There’s nothing I am

There’s nothing I’m not

I come into being

From the womb of your thought.

 

In your heart I exist

As longing, as pain

For every loss of illusion

I stand as your gain.

 

When clouded by darkness

Having lost sight of trust and love

Keep your feet on the ground

And your gaze above.

This and That

For something to be this

there’s got to be that

 

For all that is good

there’s got to be bad

 

The more you try to hide

the more you show

 

In order to have

you’ve got to let go

 

Seemingly far away

when measured from what’s near

 

Strength only emerges

in the face of fear

 

For everything I’ll know

there are two things I won’t

 

So the more I know

the more I don’t.

Anonymous

I could not have written

All that I seem to have written

Considering

I understand more fully

‘my own thoughts’

Long after

The pen has traced

Their smooth moonwalk.

Passing Away

When so many of my beliefs died

Did anybody mourn their passing?

There were no condolences; no warm compassionate hug

Were they worthy of only an indifferent shrug?

 

Why then am I programmed to grieve

The decay of mortal flesh and bone?

What belief is that

Which brings me back to your graveyard stone?

 

And what will happen

When that belief too shall pass away?

Will I mourn your death

Or shrug it away?

Retribution

He stabbed her repeatedly

in the chest

with daggered words

sharp

honed with hate and spite…

Love can be a lethal cocktail

Dangerously acidic

He threw it in her face

repeatedly

Stunned by his outrage

She sat there and silently wept;

now empty, beggared and bereft

of all guard, ammunition and daggered words…

“I just don’t have the words,” she said

“He stole them from me.”

 

Cut your losses by Choice.

Life as we know it, expresses itself through change and activity. Life is dynamic, consistently changing and forever modifying its many forms. Nothing is constant in life. And yet, the life force itself is eternal- lying outside of the bounds of time and space. Life, in order to be perpetual, must constantly die to be reborn. In other words, change is the very nature of the permanent. It is the ephemeral that sustains eternity. The movement from existence to birth, to growth and maturity and then to eventual decay and death- of just about anything available to our experience- is an undeniable and verifiable truth. Yet we, despite our experiences with impermanence, seek a life- in the midst of all the props that constitute our lives- of uninterrupted and everlasting joy! We superimpose our personal stories on the impersonal and universal currents of life. And then we try with futility, to arrest change to fulfill personal desires and if that’s not possible, to order it according to our will.

Change, especially hard-hitting, unpleasant change frightens us. We seek to protect ourselves from it. We acquire, collect, own and form alliances in a bid to stonewall change, to prolong pleasant experiences and to defer death. It is not the enduring occurrences of change, impermanence and death that are the cause of our sorrow: it is in our misconception of life that our sorrows grow like weeds. It is in our apathy and indifference to the laws of life and a disinterest in our own cultural development, that our sorrows take root. The only way out of suffering is to simply ‘choose’ not to suffer.

Choice is our most potent gift. And every moment of our lives as human beings, we are called to choose. An empowered life is one where choices are asserted. But before they’re asserted, we must be aware that we have a choice. One of our most fundamental mistakes is to believe that the availability of choice is dependent on our circumstances. Our circumstances have no bearing on our capacity to choose. On the contrary, it is our ‘capacity to choose’ that can defeat even the most debilitating circumstances. We may not be able to escape sorrow and change and loss, but we have a choice in whether or not we suffer!

This ability to choose our response is available to all- rich or poor, strong or weak, literate or illiterate. It is in this unique ability that all men stand equal. Yet we don’t recognize this. We strive hard to improve our circumstances, and also seek an improvement in life conditions for all, thinking that therein lays the key to universal happiness. We’ve even tried to order nature; and we’ve seen the many harmful repercussions of that! Like the old lady in a Sufi parable who spent all day looking for her sewing needle in a haystack outside her house with a couple of villagers who had joined in to help her search. Exasperated, one of them finally asked the old lady, ”Where did you drop the needle!” “Inside the house,” she replied. “Then why are you looking for it here!” asked the perplexed villagers. To this the old lady with smiling, twinkling eyes asked of them: “Why is it that when God is within you, you search for Him outside?”

In the same vein, the key to enduring happiness doesn’t lie in a set of perfect circumstances outside of us; it lies within. It exists in our capacity to choose. We disempower ourselves when we do not exercise choice. Choosing is essential to freedom. Choice is that secret door through which our souls can walk in and walk out at will. Without awareness of ‘this door’ in our abodes, we live our lives as prisoners trapped and enslaved by life and its whimsical twists and turns.

The culture of human beings rests on this hope that man can remain noble and undeterred through any changing circumstance; that the test of our maturity lies in our unaffected demeanor through either abundance or adversity. Loss and sorrow are inevitable experiences in the course of our lives. No one is spared. And yet, we’re given the final word- you’re not defeated till you ‘think’ you’re defeated; you don’t ‘have’ to suffer the loss of wealth, reputation or a loved one; you can choose to harness these experiences for self-discovery and growth. Ultimately, to be or not to be- the choice is ours.

Tao

Contemplation is my shrine, my sanctuary

Therein lies my peace, my solace and my freedom

It is in this space that I give of myself and receive

It is this that is my essential nature

And all that I have is offered

In obeisance, in worship and in sacrifice

For its flame to be eternally kindled

And I protect it

As one would protect something dear

I share it with the listeners

Or with those who ask of my thoughts

Or with those in need

And all of this happens naturally

With effortlessness and in eternal wisdom

There is no conflict

No division of myself

The giver and receiver

Are not two but one

There is no higher or lower self here

And no question of prudence

There is just this

Complete in itself

Independent of my ‘knowing’

And now it feeds me with this thought

Offers unto its own flame

Must there necessarily be a way to God

Or is it not that God is the Way?

Antecedence

As in the silence of a prayer

I sit facing a blank page

White. Clean.

Spotless. Silent.

It’s only now

When a thought enters my mind

That ink inscribes

These words on this page

And now that I understand

That what was

In the absence of thought

The presence of absolutely nothing

I wonder

What thought was that

That carved before me

The relief of your face and features

And placed at distances

Near and far

Spaces that I visit

And spaces that await me

What thought was it

That placed me

Just here, just now

In silent communion with an empty page.

Just Another Day

What happened last night?

We made an uncomfortable threesome

You, me and Fear

I’m not even sure of the name…

Was it Fear?

Or Desire?

Anger?

Or Bruised Ego?

Does it even matter?

Maybe all that matters

Was the uninvited

Uncalled for

Presence of a third

I couldn’t reach out to you

And you wouldn’t reach out to me

My helplessness dissolved into the oceans of my heart

That welled up and drowned most of my mindscape

I feel almost nothing now

Nothing…

Not helplessness

Not fear

Not anger

Not resentment

I feel naked

But am at peace with my nakedness

I feel hollow and light

Dead, unburdened and strangely alive

Which was how

Today amidst doing my daily chores

I who had died

Buried the dead.