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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?

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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.

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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.

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Irony

Between indulgence and longing

Existence stands by your side

Looking at you in silent askance…

You- in stray moments- steal a glimpse

But she bewilders you

With her steady poise and calm

She’s not a temptress

Knows not how to seduce

And offers you no promise other than herself

And even as you continue to swing between

New infatuations and old remembrances

She (despite sensible reason) faithfully abides by you

And occasionally you wonder: Is it even possible…

That there actually be so exquisite a state

Untainted as it were, by memory, interaction and loss?

Indeed in and through your affairs with life

Existence patiently awaits your homecoming

Yet unveiled, like a new bride

Eyes lowered, your chosen consort

Sits unloved, unheard and unseen

As you drunkenly sing songs of heartbreak and longing.

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Distance. Space. Time.

Is it a pointer of sorts

That huge, impressive structures

Should appear so minimized

When viewed from a distance?

Tall towers

That intriguingly fit

The scale of my thumb

And acres of land

Are so effortlessly contained

Within the span of my hand

Is that all one needs

…distance?

…. Space?

… time?

To see how small indeed

Are all the things

That captivate and torment

Our time and attention.

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Home

image These are my conversations with silence. These are my encounters with beauty and wonder. These are my invocations of the highest in the human condition. These are my commentaries on living. This is the poetry in the prose of my everyday. These are the sacred offshoots of the mundane. Flashes of inspiration that occur in the here and the now… And underlying all of this is a quest for wisdom beyond the known.

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Experience versus knowledge

” Where is my heart, mamma… Here right?” asked my five year old daughter, Kiara, placing her hand correctly over her beating heart.

“Yes,” I replied.

I had just successfully parallel-parked the car outside the garden that she and her friend had so persistently pleaded I take them to. So here we were…in about a span of ten minutes; starting from their fervent pleas that I take them to the park, to discussing…well…the heart.

“You know,” her eight year old friend added, “Our hearts beat even while we sleep!”

“That’s right!” I affirmed.

“Why do we have a heart, mamma?”asked Kiara.

I decided to offer her a spiritual  explanation, so that the word could become a more potent conceptual unit for her: “The heart loves… When you feel love towards someone, you feel it from your heart.”

I further added: “But to feel love from your heart, your thoughts must be silent…” Gesturing with my hand, I explained: “The heart loves to hear, and it can hear another only when your thoughts stop talking!”

Kiara who had been listening intently, then made an unusual request: “Mamma, can we sit  here only, where we are, for just five minutes?” The jumping monkeys of her mind- who had till now been refusing to relent till they reached the garden- had disappeared. Her friend and I, looked at her, then at each other, smiled and then the three of us sealed each other’s hands as if in a pact.

“Okay!” she said after a minute or so, “let’s go!”

Curious, I asked her what made her make such an extraordinary request.

“I don’t know,” she said… ” My heart told me to  just be there…”

My daughter, I realised, had just received her first lesson on the value of experiencing.

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Making peace with the unknown

So, do we know anything really?

Can what we know save us from pain?

When, if at all, is knowledge complete?

How must we converse with our experiences, so that we may redeem ourselves from them?

This blog is at best, an exposition of how every attempt to know actually leaves us knowing about how much we don’t know; and at its worst, it’s about knowing nothing at all.