Like the light luring the mist to flee
You dissolve all my worries to be
Like how a flower is found by a busy bee
I search and seek for you within me
But let me not surrender my heart
To the want of us not being apart
The two shores walking along forever
If they met, what would be of the river?
If the moon got what it always craves
Would there be any more waves?
The sky hops horizons in the hopes to hug
The Earth wanders and waits without a shrug
So let me not squander any resistance
There is meaning to find in this distance.
Isn’t there a certain
joy in oblivion?
When I can laugh my heart out
And cherish the show from the crowd
When you there on the stage
Can neither express agony nor rage?
You parrot a script you didn’t write
For a character that ain’t suit you right
And what happens to those labels all
When the curtain commits that certain fall?
When I walk with my joys few
Can you really find you?
The Sun does not
Shine any less
When the clouds
Preside over the darkness
The waves do not
Come to a stall
Before the rocks knowing
What would befall
The river does not
Abate its persistence
Flowing into the ocean
To cease its existence
I seek a ray of hope
With no sign of dawn
“The heart will break
But broken live on”
Neither any glow
Nor any sparkle
Neither the dreams
I often marvel
I adorn the struggles
Against I haven’t bent
My suffering is
Where thoughts are censored and rumors roar loud;
Where the facts are manufactured;
Where the world has been broken up into communities by caste and creed;
Where every dissent is seen as contempt;
Where we elect those who have the least respect for the law;
Where selfish interests fuel the fire to burn all sense and reason;
Where one needs to prove their patriotism by pleasing those in power –
Into that swamp, my Gurudev, our country lays in slumber.
Inspired by “Let My Country Awake” by Rabindranath Tagore
In the dead of the night
I burn yet again
Trampled by the terror
I take to the pyre
To put it to rest
Your deafening silence
So no more like me
Suffer the fate and agony
Lest not my hope
Disappear in this smoke
In the dead of the night
I wish you be human again
On 14 September 2020, a 19-year-old Dalit woman was gang-raped in Hathras district, Uttar Pradesh, India, by four upper caste men. She died two weeks later in a Delhi hospital. After her death, the victim was forcibly cremated by the police without the consent of her family, a claim denied by the police.
Can an eye ever see itself? Can a leg ever kick itself? Ever seen a hand that grabs itself, or perhaps, a tooth that takes a bite at itself? If you are “it” then you cannot exist out of what you are.
So tell me how can you be defined…by the thoughts alone that ring in your mind? For surely you have at least once or more…heard a voice within that observed your own.
When in fits of anger, it appealed to you for calm. When driven by hate, it spoke to you of charm. When in depths of jealousy, it reminded you to be grateful. When embroiled in revenge, it rid you from being spiteful.
On days mundane, we let our senses observe the drama around. On better days, we observe the senses for every sound. But what happens when the observer and the observed are sitting on the same mound?*
In that moment when we watch our own self, we see choices beyond the daily grind. In that moment of being present, we are a bit more than our mind. In that moment of self-awareness, we are one with the divine.**
* दृग दृश्य विवेक (Drig Drishya Vivek): Advaita Vedanta text on inquiry into the distinction (vivek) between the “seer” (drig) and the “seen” (drishya), making a case for divinity in all of us by establishing our ability to observe our mind as if watching a third person.
** तत्त्वमसि (Thou art that): One of the four Mahavakyas or great sayings of the Upanishads, it express the insight that the individual self which appears as a separate existence, is in essence part and manifestation of the whole.
Don’t believe every thought
Don’t act on every emotion
Don’t opine in every debate
Don’t react to every instigation
Don’t chase every desire
Don’t succumb to every fear
Don’t rave every win
Don’t agonize every loss
Don’t yearn for every memory
Don’t fantasize every dream
You may think you are
The doer in every act
You may sense the world
As another separate fact
Ask no kid ever
“Who do you want to
Grow up to be like?”
Since no sapling ever
Wished onto itself
Every leaf and every branch
In the exact shape like
The tallest tree on the pike
Not so straight shadows
Not so many actions
Not so deterministic results
Not so fleeting memories
Not so simple life