The Moment

It takes a moment

for ‘Forever’ to end.

The hours, the days

The months, the years

Can be swallowed in a moment.

The stories we are stringing together

The stories we are living

Can come undone

And scatter like pearls

that lose the thread they cling to

All in a moment.

The Moment is the Ministry of Justice

The Moment is the Sentinel of Truth

The Moment is the Breath of God.

It’s not easy to stand

So close to The Moment

Its power is immense

And so is its mercy.

It can take away your All

Leaving you with nothing more

Than yourself.

Cutting you down to its size

Reminding you

That yourself is all that you’ve got

And The Moment is all that you need.

 

The Insignificance of Significance

Empty pages

Seek recourse from an empty mind

and an empty heart

Stop! Don’t feel!

Lest you weep

If you weep

You’ll unleash a storm

And then

What about the repercussions?

The aftermath?

 

Quiet

 

Hush.

 

Let all storms die within.

 

Breathe- breathe- breathe

 

I see the shadow of my hand as I write

Is that of some significance?

 

Does this simple interplay of light, form and feeling embody a deeper meaning?

Why did this thought come to me?

Ah! Is it because there are now two of us?

The outside is now looking in?

 

I wonder

Are you writing about me?

Or am I writing about you?

Speak, dammit!

Is that how you look?

Dark

Sans detail

Sans voice

Just a shadow

You’re nothing but a mere cast of me?

But then, are you my essence?

 

Just empty watchfulness

An empty page

Defined by nothing more than a silhouette.

 

Breathe-breathe-breathe…

 

Idol Worship

You are the object…

The Reason, the Diety

– that which engages life within me

 

In You I search

And I find

-my despair, my purpose, my redemption

 

You stand there

Feet-tied, tongue- tied, heart-in-knots

Unable to help me

 

But…

 

It is through You

I make the journey

Back to myself

 

From beginning

To end

To beginning again.

Lesson on Liberation

“Mamma, what will happen to a person inside a mirror, if the mirror breaks? Will the person come out?” Kiara, my five year old enquired intelligently.

I picked up the mirror, held it before her and asked, “Who do you see?”

” I see me!” she replied smiling.

” Now if this mirror were to break, where would you go?” I asked

” Nowhere… I’ll be here…” she replied with a sparkle in her eye.

She smiled realising the unreality of images in the mirror.

And I, on realising the unreality of thoughts in my mind.

How Fascinating!

How engaging it is-

To occupy the mind

With a full spectrum of affections

From the basest desires

To the highest virtues.

 

How intelligent it is-

To draw up the warp and weft

Of random events

And to weave a rich tapestry

With my very own patterns of thought and imagination.

 

How gratifying it is-

To believe in ‘my person’

As being native to an undiscovered Being

And to proceed therefrom

On a lifelong journey towards self-discovery.

I Am…

What does it take to remove mental afflictions of anger, fear, smallness, desire, hatred and polarity? These afflictions keep us confined within ourselves and don’t allow us to experience the divinity, love and auspiciousness that is the true nature of existence. We live life selectively; on the basis of ideology or kinship with those who are like us. If it’s easy to love those who are like you, it’s just as easy to mistrust or hate ‘the other’ or those who are unlike you. We learn all the skills of living in a ‘world’, paying no attention to the question of what it means to simply exist.

To live in a world means to construct an identity, to secure a place and a role in society and to participate in the economic and political system. It  also means to consistently drive your efforts to change, vanquish, drive away or simply obliterate all that is a threat to your self-created identity. We are forever on guard. The world I see is not a constitution of facts, it’s a constitution of my perceptions. In other words, the joys or sorrows I experience are not caused by the world, but by my perceptions of it. Our existence is wombed in ignorance. We continue to live in ignorance even as we mature as adults. The knowledge we acquire is relative to only those aspects of our existence we commonly agree exist or that which we believe we should know  about in order to sustain ourselves. Such knowledge doesn’t remove us from the womb of our ignorance. We remain undisclosed and unborn to ourselves. It is in this darkness within that the mind imagines, the mind speculates, the mind fears and the mind pines for.

The compulsions that confine, enslave and demean us only thicken with our continued identification with all that we- in a state of ignorance- have constructed. In the final analysis, neither our knowledge of the ‘world’ and its ways, nor our wealth, name, position and kinship will bail us out; but only that knowledge that converses with our self will. When we mask our ignorance, our knowledge is only cosmetic. It simply makes us look good. But when we look at our ignorance, stand facing it, seek to understand it and fearlessly dwell in it- wonderful things happen… For one, you know that you don’t know, you also get certain about what you know and you allow the powers of simple existence to  unfold. Your  speech loses its arrogance and becomes sincere, you empathize, you trust, love becomes free of attachment, and respecting another is no longer a test of your patience or ‘tolerance’. You revel in being ‘supported’ by a force  you can’t see, but which you- despite your ignorance- are absolutely certain, exists.

Lesson from an afternoon nap

3:15pm:

I lie down for a nap.

Thoughts are racing in my head.

They fight each other

One must emerge as the winner-

The most powerful thought-

The one endowed with most reason…

The fight in mind should settle it

Once and for all.

 

I shut my eyes

I consciously step away from the arena.

Their argument becomes dimmer as I walk away…

When the noises become faint

I slip into bliss…

 

4:20pm:

I’m up…

The thoughts are now a memory.

Time transported me into the future.

Having left thought behind

I feel older, wiser

more mature.

 

This is the way to grow:

This is the way to win:

Yes, thoughts will enter

And claim your space

Allow them to fight out their dialectical destiny.

Stand up

Walk away

Realize that

The attainment you seek

Doesn’t  depend on a thought’s victory.

 

 

 

“Does Love exist,” she asked…

“Does love exist,” she asked

 

“Expectations unmet

And feelings are held on to closely

On a short leash…

And what about love?

Love stays in my head

Not my heart

It lives on as a concept

It seldom, if ever

Enters my aching heart

 

Does it exist? Anywhere?

And should it exist?

My relationships are but a transaction

Held together precariously

By a concept called ‘duty’.

 

What makes ‘duty’ more dear than love?

Perhaps because I sees that everybody else thinks so…

Love is this fluid, uncontrollable ache

Love knows no partiality

It reveals all

And that’s the scary part

That in love

I will be seen in my nakedness

My skin will lie before you

In all its blemishes

My aching heart will

with innate gravity and force

Drop me to unimaginable lows

I will long for you and your deliverance

With no certainty ever

That I shall be received by the open arms of your own longing

 

Love can just about assure me of two mercies:

Hope and Faith.

But it is duty that’s more prudent,

more pragmatic

It helps me float over the ache

 

And it is Duty that pays the bills

For all those distractions

That fill up my space and time

And love continues to live on

In my head

As a concept.

And because it does

there are expectations unmet

And feelings restrained.”

Manifesto

Our economic system is flawed.

Our political system is flawed.

Our education system is flawed.

Our society is flawed.

 

Because they thrive on falsehood

They need lies for profit, for leverage

And in and through their design

All work is sacrilegious and a curse.

Poverty is immanent in wealth

We only graduate in degrees of ignorance

And man is bound to man in a wretched dependency.

 

The root of all this is the individual

Fallen from Grace

He seeks his Self

He tries to know who he is

By being who he’s not (a sum of different parts).

 

Filled with deluded notions of grandeur

He procures. He makes. He sells.

And he is celebrated for the profit he makes.

In this blinding business of generating profit

He is left with sight, but loses his power to perceive.

 

With such an impairment

He can find worldly sustenance only through profit

He woos gain

And fears loss

He is wide in mirth

But shrivelled in sorrow

He wants only part of what life has to offer

He has no faith in the whole.

 

And the Truth cannot be anything but whole

The Truth Is.

It need not be created

The Truth cannot be measured by numbers or degrees

It is all-pervading and all-embracing.

 

Truth does not grow

It does not favour

the rich over the poor

the strong over the weak

the haves over the have-nots.

 

Infallible in its system

It awaits our homecoming

If only man could find solace

in the knowledge that it’s okay to not know…

And simply accept his being

Forego the contrivances of “who” or “what”.

And celebrate am-ness…

 

Then Truth would speak

And Truth would need

That which only Truth can give

Truth would ask

And Truth would answer

And Truth would accept

What Truth had made.