Fables of The Self

The Hurry

"O man, where is thy caravan; the tent, the comfort that guarantees the security?"

"I've left it behind, in search of freedom; that elusive state I am told to be the most wondrous. I want to be free."

A bird in a cage -
iron-clad or golden,
seeks freedom.

"But look at the rags your body dons, the restless eyes that wander in search of bed, the hunger that has turned your belly scaphoid! And you say you have left the caravan behind?"

"Yes, what you say is apparently true. But I was uncomfortable in the silky robes; the cozy bed took away sleep from my eyes; the food did not satiate my hunger anymore; I had no choice but to leave the hearth.

The sun is energy
and gives food,
but it's not compulsory.

This stretch of discomfort is a necessary experience, a compulsory exercise, for me to seek a peaceful sleep; a true nutrition, and a higher bliss. Come won't you join me?

Retreating shadow -
rise of self
or end of dependence?

Look ahead; the fountain sprouts lovely nectar, the sky offers a cool roof, the earth has laden a soft bed, and the knowledge is the food that would nourish my body.

The troupe will reach here, though it will take a longer time. Nothing is wrong with the caravan; but it is slow to move, and I am in a hurry."

Everyone is destined
to reach the spot; but
he has shown me a short cut.

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Tit-bits and Short Poems

Did a swan fly by,
that darkness appears
a little less?

Has an eye cried,
that the load weighs
a pound less?

Did a bell toll,
that feet rustle
at a slower pace?

Window - a guilty opening
for the closed door.

Words - an escape route
for fugitive silence.

A meeting - forced detour
to avoid a void.

Hand in hand - a symbolic gesture
to hide the distance.

all poems by c s shah

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