THE FLUTE

            (OR MURALI)

 

When Thou broke this piece

Away from its mother bush

Oh, how it hurt my Lord !

And how the bamboo cursed

When it Thy knife pierced

And left gaping wounds !

But Thy lips touched it,

Thy sweet breath filled it,

It found itself a flute

And ever since then

It never ceased to sing.

 

        ***         ***

 

But why folk and funny tunes

And not the classic ones

Murali could never find

Nor does greatly mind

For, it is Thy hands that hold

And Thy breath that flows.

 

 

MISS INFINITY OR THE CHAT SHOW GIRL

 

Dearest !

 

What else to call you as ?

Sister ? Daughter ?

My Girl ? My Baby pearl ?

My A ? My B ? My him ? My her ?

My molten golden mountain girl ?

My bright-eyed, beaming, blue-seas boy ?

Infinity ? One-in-all ? All-in-one ?

    ...         ...         ...

Oh ! None says it all.

Dearest comes nearest.

 

Dearest, my all-in-all,

My own, My self !

What do I want ?

Just fun with you !

Just want to chat with you.

More perhaps to listen to your chatting with me,

In every one, in every thing.

In A, In P, In S, in Z,

In this boy, in that girl,

In this god-brother, that dog-friend.

 

I listen to you in all

And drink in the joy of

That Golden Girl's

Early morning Chat Show

 

                 15 Feb 1995

              Hyd. Temple Basement

             in presence of Alwal Sanjeev.

 

WORDS, WORDS, WORDS !

 

Words, words, words !

Words given birth by me

Words nurtured in my womb

Words nourished at my breasts

My bouncy, beautiful, baby-girls, all.

 

...         ...           ...       ...

 

They are not always bouncy

Nor are their beauty for ever

This is my grief

One exhilarates now

Yet she exasperates the next moment

She fills me with strength and surety now

Yet again,

She drains me by dullness and doubts.

 

My womb is full of girls unborn.

I am in a dilemma.

I despair of giving birth to them.

But I want them madly.

I have to take them as they come.

Ill or well formed.

I cannot stop

Fragility is my first name

Vulnerability is my vocation.

 

...         ...         ...

 

An experience, a moment,

A human, Me. She, He,

Stamp of Infinity on them all,

Innocence, merry mischief, joy,

Writ in Gold on the wrapper

 

But words, words, words

They are all clothed by words

There is not a single good eye on earth

Everyone has goggles, inside or out

None can see in the brilliance of the wordless   

    splendour

They dare not, they cannot let go of words

They clothe themselves

They force others to dress up.

 

...            ...            ...

 

I ? How do I do ?

I too dare not.

I delight to dress up

I dance in different costumes

To the mirror, to girls of my gang

It is all a green room affair.

I don't face strangers

But the green room expands

Strangers start to string into my shining set

Then I revel and reveal myself

But still clothed by words

 

Fine words, expressive words, sometimes.

But still words, after all.

Coarse, crude, dull, drab dresses

Or silken, smooth, shining, colourful,

Filmy, fine textured clothes,

Wondergirl Veronica's Vanderwhat wears

But they too don't reveal all

They dim, they diffuse the light within.

They too clothe and cover, after all.

 

...         ...         ...         ...

 

Words, words, words,

They are my despair, they are my delight

They drain me dry, they drive me on

I grope in darkness, I look in light

For the wordless word,

For my the Princess' and

My Empress' real new clothes.

 

                          5.23 pm

                   >11 Mar 1995 < 15 Mar 1995

                      Temple Basement

                       Hyderabad

THE DEADLY MAUSOLEUM

 

(or Brahma Mithya Jagad Satyam)

 

It was a hundred and eight years ago

That he died, my Supreme Grand Father.

But he was a freak

He was a show-piece, case

Special doctors descended on him

One said, `it is a heart death,

Body's hot, current' flow's on'

But it didn't last

Body was burnt to dust

But the specialists didn't give up

They said,`it's a body death,

But he lives'

They conferred, they debated,

Then they presented

A dressed up decorated vegetable

They prescribed a set of motions

For us to pretend before him

They told us some psycho tips

That will bring back the dull drab

  vegetable

To some sort of life.

 

We are at it still.

 

You must admire our stubbornness.

We carry on the daily drill

In this stupid mausoleum

It doesn't have a corpse even,

But some miscast metals, ill shaped stones,

And some silly shadows

That has some pathetic maudlin links

With that whipped up dead corpse.

 

Pity us, pity us, we are at this game

A thousand of us have left

All our valuable works

To play this morbid game

Thousand thousands more

Give vital parts of our lives

For this shadow-play.

 

I cannot let go now.

I am hooked, I am done with,

There is fatal charm

In this diabolical dead man

Not him, his dead body's shadow does that.

Imagination soars, dreams throw up, joy abounds.

Devil perhaps knows how it happens,

How a long dead repulsive

Half-naked, rustic, unkempt, stale vegetable

Drags us all, bright and beautiful

To his place, the doomsworld.

 

                        10.15 a.m.

                      16 March 1995

                    Temple Siddha peeth

                      Holy Hyd'bad

ALL REALS

(Or Brahma Satyam Jagad Satyam)

 

It is not yet.

Or is it ?

I don't know what is `it'.

I don't know if there is `yet'.

Not that I don't know.

I know, but oh, I don't know

It is all so very clear

No puzzle, no despair

 

...         ...         ...

...         ...         ...

 

Now I shall do a `Real Imagination' act.

 

It's all true, It's all love,

It's all life, It's all real

It's all here, now.

 

...         ...         ...

...         ...         ...

 

In the dim shadowy horizon

I seem to see some shadow shapes

Hear some shadow voices

Feel some shadow shadows

 

...         ...         ...

...         ...

 

The ink has dried

The seeming eternal moment seems past

I have to quit now

I have to give an imaginary interval

I am back to play acting

But this real image keeps shining

While what seems to be a newfound me

Goes about playacting

It's curtains for now

 

                      5.50 p.m.

                  Hyd. Tea Table

               (Srinivas present at times)

                   17 March 1995

 

                              

         THE PLAY

 

Our beloved Brother Joy

Sounds his sweet call

His boisterous brother

The gusty fire-eater

Is the first to answer

And soon more gather

The busy blame their luck

And go on with their work

 

The merry little band

March to the grounds

Joy and his brother

Array teams together

The play gets around

Fun and joy abound

 

         ...         ...         ...

 

Aye, play, brothers, play

But remember all the way

It is all but a play

Play the play for play

Play the play as play

Play the play for Joy

Play the play in joy

If you play for play

Brother Joy will stay

You play not for play

Joy will shy away

And his fierce brother

Will blast you in to smither

 

  Direct context: Training Centre Volley Ball play

                    Br.Bijoy (Brother Joy) and

                        Br.Arvind(fire-eater)

  Among suggested context : Gokula-Vrindavan

                            Sri Krishna & Balarama

 

                           Life

                 Lovable Chosen God(deity),

                        & the Just God,

                              etc.

 

Laws Are For Violating

 

Laws, rules and routine ?

Yes, laws are for violating

Rules indeed to break

And routine to keep breaking.

 

Break indeed thou must

But break the best way

With thunder roars and lightning

 

Bomb's sure for bursting

But it strikes the mammoth walls

And breaks indeed to pieces

But sets the fort ablaze

And causes columns crashing

Should the cannon ball

Break at gun's mouth

With it breaks to pieces

The gunner and the gun

 

   Occurred suddenly in the beginning of

    even meditation at the T.C. terrace

       24-11-1985.

 

Saplings

 

Thou growest tender plants

In the garden of thy heart

Ah, Guard thy garden well,

Lest the poison weed

Of awful apathy

Raise it's hideous head

And choke thy tender saplings

To a slow, starving death

 

Pity the suffering, dear,

Be it of body or mind

Wretched are the sufferers

Be it their own making

Pain is pain, brother,

Though, it perhaps be,

Thine own dear hands

That struck and wounded

In the dense darkness

 

      ... And The Locust Egg

 

And need I speak, brother

Of the deadly pest of malice ?

A single egg, thou nurturest

Breeds swarms and swarms

Of giant deadly locusts.

Drop it ! Drop the egg

As thou wouldst a viper

That thou perchance picked up.

 

 

            Saplings : Sick Sisir gave a packet of 


toffee. Commented to Ajay sick are sick though the 
illness be their making. T.C.Ist year,24.11.85.

 

               Egg : 25.11.1985, 7 p.m. room.

 

The Seventh Pot of Gold

 

When this bitter pain

Struck my poor heart

I could never tell

But once I suddenly found that

It has been with me,

This vacuum in the heart

Unfailing as my shadow

Now less, now more.

Like a turbid river

Which with arms outstretched

Plunge in warm embrace

And merges with the ocean

I longed to lose myself

And bury in the bosom

Of my heart's love

Whose name I never knew.

 

It was long ago

(Must've been a fine morning)

That God came unto me.

'Twas Love recognised at first sight

(So I gather the affair to be)

Like a happy child

Content at mother's breasts

I drank with full joy

The milk of God love

It filled my heart, sure

But, alas, not that corner !

For long I knew it not

So full of joy I was

But doubt seized my heart

When, somehow, a day, I saw it

Though soon, I turned to God

A fear remained in heart

Though, joyful still, I was,

`Twas never the same again.

 

Then I fell in love with

Humans, the other God

Sure, the heart was filled

But, oh, not that corner !

I tried to give up God

That I may adore humans

It gave me sore pain

I tried to let go humans

And cling to God fast

Agony, that too was

And neither fills the corner

Alone, nor both together

A wretched corner it is

A deadly cancer spot

Foreboding great evil

It troubles me sore, my friend,

This seventh pot of gold

That ever stays unfilled

I am weary my soul

A way, thou must find

My constant companion

Thou art my only hope

 

Answer :

 

My dear troubled child !

You go the wrong way,

That sure causes grief

When you fell in love

You longed for the caress

In your want to fill

You sought to be filled

When you rushed to embrace

The warmth was what you craved

In your wish to give

You cloaked your need to take

 

Ah, there is no give and take

The law is give and give

(If you perchance take

Take that with freedom

Link it not with `give')

 

You seek an answer

For all your afflictions ?

Remember ever and ever

Cause and effect is never

Cause is one, effect 'nother

Never link one with the'ther.

 

If you remember this

Your heart'll fill with bliss

Nay, If you remember this

Your heart mayn't fill with bliss

For, there is no cause and effect.

 

Ah, my poor child, dear,

I've no way, I fear

But this I'd say ever

Cause and effect's never

 

Poet or Commoner ?

Am I a poet ?

Or am I a commoner ?

A moon-watcher ?

Or an earth walker ?

I am both, I am both,

I am two-in-one.

 

At times the moon-watcher

Starts to snowy heights

And rides fleecy clouds

The earth-walker calls him back

 

At times the moon-watcher

Is lost in dizzy heights

And terror strikes him dumb

The earth-walker helps him down

 

At times the earth-walker

Weary in damp marshes

Is caught in quicksands

The moon-watcher pulls him up.

 

The earth-walker checks the moon-watcher

The moon-watcher raises the earth-walker

And a day will come

When the earth-walker's head touches the moon

And the moon-walker's feet walk the earth

And they are one.

                  4.12.1985,Sanskrit Class,11 a.m.

 

I CRY A TEARLESS CRY

 

I longed for solitude

That I may cry my heart out

And wash my woes away

I waited and waited long

But, alas, when alone

My tears had dried unshed

So, I cry a tearless cry

 

I longed for a soul-mate

That I may talk my heart out

And ease my taut nerves

I waited and waited long

But, alas, when he came

The words had died unsaid

So sorrow a sorrow dumb

                     Thought out the lines when

                taking lunch 12 noon 11 March 1986

 

 

 

A Diamond Is Born

 

Art thou weary my soul ?

With cares weighing thee down

And heat that oppress sore ?

Ah ! Take heart, tell thyself

Thou hast a mother.

The weight that thou feelest,

The heaviness of her embrace

The heat but its warmth

In earth's warm bosom

Lies a lump of coal

And lo, a diamond's born !

Grieve thou not, my soul

Thy mother gathers thee

Into her loving folds

Nestle thou in her warmth

Stir thou not my soul

Rest thou in peace sweet

And then thou shall wake up

A jewel on her heart

 

   ***        ***         ***

 

Fear thou not my soul,

Sure, darkness is afore

But lift up thy eyes

And thou shall see the light

That shines beyond the darkness

The light white and austere

(For, Sarada is her name)

The dark is but thy shadow

Thrown by thy grossness

Ah, if only thou wouldst shed !

But never mind, if thou can't.

Turn thee from thy shadow

And behold the Mother within

Wouldn't thou ? Ah, never mind,

She's behind thee sure

And draws thee to her close

A day will come

When thou wouldst wake up

And find thy grossness gone

And mother within and out.

 

 

         16.3.1985; T.C. Ist year

          Aftermath of the Hiranyaji's decision

 

 

Doubt, they say, 's the greatest sin

It seems, it fills me to the brim

But I'm sure, I've no fear

And not a drop of sorry tear

 

At times I wish to cry with some

`Oh, God ! My God ! If there is God

Save my soul, if I have a soul!'

The next moment I hold my peace

 

I softly tell my stricken soul,

`My life mate, my dear brave soul !

Why such a fuss you make ?

Why despond ? why despair ?

Why have you forgotten yourself ?

To such a pass why have you come to ?

 

You were touched my God in your childhood !

You doubt it ? Ah, then,

Can you doubt

You touched God in your childhood ?

You cried for God,

And have you not had something ?

Have you not a great love for Mother ?

Haven't you understood Mother is your own ?

 

You desire to play `Let's pretend'?

So be it. Be all these false.

Let an accident there be,

That cause you to forget all !

But still, you have yourself !

I know you, I love you.

I love you with such a love

That none except perhaps God

   Is capable of.

You strong heart, why despair ?

You have God !

You can do without air

But you can't, without God.

If you are piqued at God

There are people

Have adventure meeting people

Then there is Death, Spirit

  and the Transcendent

 

Your heart is in all these, keep on,

Do all, do all,

Truth may be, must be, somewhere.

Nothing, No effort is wasted

Though, silly, you know,

You instinctively, are aware,

Truth is in everything.

Though you pretend, you play

A game of not knowing

Come on, awake, arise

Be up and doing

My dear brave soul.

 

First two paras on 22.7.85

           T.C. Ist year

 

Kept the remaining as rough draft

 until 26.5.1987 T.C. 2nd year

  when the same was taken as the

   complete form after a few

    modifications.

 

A Visitor at the Snowy Heights

 

A Visitor at the snowy heights

She dances o'er the mountain range

At her mere presence

There blooms a freshness

That fills the mountain air

As Her feet kiss

The soft stage of snow

Streams burst to freedom

Their fun and merriment

Echo over ranges

 

Flanked by mountain's daughters

Of many songs and dances

She dances Her way down

To the foot-hills and the plains

 

A visitor at the snowy heights

She dwells in plains and foot-hills

 

As a mother rests

In the late morn

Infant at her breasts,

And gazing far beyond

The notes of Her song

Play in mother's heart

And its sweet strains

Holds her in thrall

At Her tender touch

Breasts bloom in fullness

And their fragrance

Fills the infant's heart

 

A little girl in rags

Carries on her hip

Her little child brother

And tries and tries to feed him

His wildly roving eyes

Chance upon her face

And gazes open-mouthed

Beholding Her dance

And the sister slips the food in

And as the ailing mother

Looks at the daughter

She fills her eyes

And floods her heart

 

With arms round the other

As two merry boys

Swing from a swing

The cadence of Her song

Rise and fall along

In their happy hearts

 

With sister in the front

A brother rides a bike

On a shady road

In a silent valley

And mountains loom afar

As the brother listens

To the sister's chatter

Through her lips She slips

And floods the silent vale

With Her cooling freshness

And as the brother drives on

She stays in his silence

 

As boys gather

By a mountain pool

Into Her open arms

They run and plunge themselves

And as they have their food

She fills it with Her flavour

 

At a river bank

As a lover waits

For her heart's beloved

She creeps near in stealth

And stabs the girl at heart

She draws the dagger out

The girl writhes in pain

And as the lovers meet

She fills their hands and hearts

 

Oh ! In a thousand homes

She dwells in the plains

Where people meet

With not a shred of cover

There She dances bright

   *     *     *

Sure, they want Her mad

But dare not see Her straight

They shrink from Her light

Run into a house

And close the doors tight

And yet in groups they gather

To rave and revel in

The rare rays of light

That find their way in

They dare not see her straight

But gaze in wonder at

The sprinkling of Her light

Sparkling in the skies.

 

Dwelling in darkness

They behold a sudden flash

Of blinding brilliance

Hushed and awed, though,

A long single moment,

Next moment they shriek

And turn their eyes away

The Maiden smiles to Herself

And dims her brilliance

With flowing robes and golds

The eyes that turned away

Open to the dimness

They turn to look again

With fear and longing great

 

In mute wonder they see

A paragon of beauty

Lustrous in golds

Clothed in shining silks

Hearts eased and pleased

They burst into songs

With more golds and silks

They deck Her with love

 

Ah, little do they know,

That Her very presence

Adores Her ornaments

And shines through the silks

While the silks and golds

Twining around Her

Bask in stolen glory.

 

A Visitor at the Snowy Heights

 

A Visitor at the snowy heights

She dances o'er the mountain range

At her nude presence

There blooms a freshness

That fills the mountain air

As Her feet kiss

The soft stage of snow

Streams burst to freedom

Their fun and merriment

Echoes over ranges

 

Flanked by mountain's daughters

Of many songs and dances

She dances her way down

To the foot-hills and the plains

 

A visitor at the snowy heights

She dwells in plains and foot-hills

 

As a mother rests

In the late morn

Infant at her breasts,

And gazing far beyond

The notes of Her song

Play in mother's heart

And its sweet strains

Holds her in thrall

At Her tender touch

Breast bloom in fullness

And their fragrance

Fills the infant's heart

 

A little girl in rags

Carries on her hip

Her little child brother

And tries and tries to feed him

His wildly roving eyes

Chance upon her face

And gazes open-mouthed

Beholding Her dance

The sister slips the food in

And as the ailing mother

Looks at the daughter

She fills her eyes

And floods her heart

 

With arms round the other

As two merry boys

Swing from a swing

The cadence of Her song

Rise and fall along

In their happy hearts

 

With sister in the front

A brother rides a bike

On a shady road

In a silent valley

And mountains loom afar

As the brother listens

To the sister's chatter

Through her lips She slips

And floods the silent vale

With Her cooling freshness

And as the brother drives on

She stays in his silence

H 69  816  816  0     0     0     0   1 1     0     0     0     0     0     0     0HAs boys gather

By a mountain pool

Into Her open arms

They run and plunge themselves

And as they have their food

She fills it with Her flavour

 

At a river bank

As a lover waits

For her heart's beloved

She creeps near in stealth

And stabs the girl at heart

She draws the dagger out

The girl writhes in pain

And as the lovers meet

She fills their hands and hearts

 

Oh ! In a thousand homes

She dwells in the plains

Where people meet

With not a shred of cover

There She dances nude

   *     *     *

Sure, they want Her mad

But dare not see Her nude

They shrink from Her light

Run into a house

And close the doors tight

And yet in groups they gather

To rave and revel in

The rare rays of light

That find their way in

They dare not see her straight

But gaze in wonder at

The sprinkling of Her light

Sparkling in the skies.

 

Dwelling in darkness

They behold a sudden flash

Of blinding brilliance

Hushed and awed, though,

A long single moment,

Next moment they shriek

And turn their eyes away

The Maiden smiles to Herself

And dims her nakedness

With flowing robes and golds

The eyes that turned away

Open to the dimness

They turn to look again

With fear and longing great

 

In mute wonder they see

A paragon of beauty

Lustrous in golds

Clothed in shining silks

Hearts eased and pleased

They burst into songs

With more golds and silks

They deck Her with love

 

Ah, little do they know,

That Her nakedness

Adores Her ornaments

And shines through the silks

While the silks and golds

Twining around Her

Bask in stolen glory.

 

 

One Life In A Ghostland

 

It was a hundred and eight years ago

That he did it, my young friend, my room-mate

It was a great Houdini act

It was a brilliant piece in his show

He pretended to be born, to live,

To suffer and to die

His next acts are on

But that one has so hooked us

That we have changed his name

We call him now by the name

He took in that piece

 

Oh, he is a merry mischievous mate

Spontaneity is his name

There is never a dull moment with him

Sometimes, he teases me with mock terror

Or he presents a pleasing wholesome joy

He is so lively, death was teased away by him

He is the star show man

In this super-mart of joy

He has many wonderful gift offers

He is so sporting, throws such good bargains

    with his gifts

But as my brother said,

He is the greatest ever gift

Oh ! Star of my soul,

My soul-mate, my all, my self,

I wouldn't do without you, my love.

 

He seems to still

Such serene and placid looks

That lulls us to close our eyes in silence

But he steals behind us

Arranges our affairs into all sorts of knots

We return in rage

Again the smooth cool fellow

Disarms us, charms us and lulls us

He dips back into his bag of dirty tricks.

 

He looks dirty, unkempt beard, and old

But I am yet to see  prettier

 more fashionable girls than

  those who flock to him.

He looks withdrawn, eyes half closed

But they come, expose all their

Secret sorrows to him, the lazy tramp

Smart boys, cute girls, cute boys, smart girls,

Society men, women of all ages, of all types

Moneybags, none-i'-bags, middle sorts,

They all come to him

He never seems to move, my rogue-friend

Yet he pulls the crowd

 

 

 

 

'Nother wonder, he never pulls any wonder,

The lame limp back

The blind return groping

The ill might go worse

But they are all hooked to him

They all swear by him

He is sure a wonder boy, this , my friend.

 

I can never tell enough of my pal.

Almost always, he never shows up

Leaving us only his shadows.

But I see walking, shaking

Jerking, running. swinging, dancing corpses around

They swarm the whole earth

It is all a ghost land

Morbid, sickening, dull, death-stamped

Only sign of life I see,

In these dumb at first sight

Photos and statues

That is the brightest thing in this

  ghost land, this, his shadow.

 

I seem to have stumbled upon him

My love, my mate, my self,

I won't let go now

You caught me or I caught you, I don't know

But I find a sweet togetherness

 

We have massaged each other enough

We have chatted enough

Let us slip into our place

The sweet real dreamland

 

      5.10 p.m. 17 Mar 1995, Holy Hyd'bad.

THE GREAT HORROR SHOW

(or Brahma Mithya Jagad Mithya)

 

I'll tickle my self to a horror show

Remember my dear self, you've to get dead scared

 

      ...            ...            ...

 

Where is A ? Where is B ?

Where is P, S and all of them ?

Where are they who you thought loved you ?

 

They have gone, they have ditched you

You are dead to them

Cry, cry, you soaked sponge

There is none, not a wet nurse even.

 

No, I am not scared

The tears just stopped from falling

I am the spring of love

I give and take with freedom

Largely, I give, give, give and give

I am an aristocrat, not an upstart

My riches has no beginning, will never end

There are always A's, B's, P's and all

Love comes back, that is the law.

I take it their grace, a bonus

You can't scare me

 

Ha, ha, ha ! There is none anymore

All are gone

Trees, hills, warm humans with all their wares

All melt into the misty horizon

You stumble along alone

On the desolate expanse of earth

 

No, I stand erect on my own legs.

 

Ha, you are a helpless baby !

Cry, cry, little baby, cry !

For, you can't do it long,

You can't even turn now

You are stuck down limp

Like a stunned insect

That waits with fear in agony

For death that takes a long time coming.

You are paralysed, stuck up,

You can't see your toe,

No, not even the tip of your nose

You can't turn, You can't wink,

Nor pull your eye-lids in.

Burn, burn

Cruelly, agonisingly, burn !

Are you scared now ?

 

 

Yes, I was.

I am, a bit, even now.

I have had a night mare

Heart's beating fast still

Ah, funny, I still speak the same way

Where is heart ?

But you got the idea.

 

I am in a puzzle

But I am still alive

The me, which has been my mate for long,

Is still with me

I am not scared

Puzzled, yes, but confident

 

There is a catch somewhere

Nothing is gone, every thing is there

I am somehow in every thing

I am somehow mixed up in all these

I will sort it out

I am not scared at all

I will sort it out somehow.

 

Away, go away, you old rogue,

  whoever you are !

You can't scare me

 

               Dining Hall

            5.05 a.m. <17 Mar<28 Mar 1995

             Holy Hyderabad

 

THE LITTLE PRINCE OF SERENDIP

 

Let me tell you

Of the Little Salt Prince

Who went to meet

The Goddess of the Sea

 

Have you been to sea-shore?

Seen Her flashing pearly white

As She rides the high

Like a thousand queens

On a rocky ramp ?

Have you heard Her joyous laughter,   

Her sweet lingering music ?

The rhythm of Her dancing steps

On the sprawling stretch of sands ?

Ever wondered how She got it all ?

I guess 'Twas My Little Prince

Who gave it all to Her.

 

I'll try to tell you how.

 

He was my serendipity.

No wonder he was from Serendip, too.

His laughter rings in me.

His beauty shines 'fore me.

His purity, his freshness

Pervades me, fills me now.

Oh, How shall I ever tell you of him ?

 

Heard the words, God, Atman,

Avatar - Incarnations,

Partial, full, half, quarter,

Bits, pieces and fractions?

 

He is an incarnation, no less.

 

But get me right,

He is not one of

The General Theory.

He is a persons friendly type

That comes in  Special Theory.

To those who knew him not,  

He was one among many dead,

But to the lucky

He is what I said.

 

He was called Ramakrishna.

 

Not the Chief, The Old Long Beard,

This one went before it could grow.

But the name-sakes were fast friends.

In truth He was

The boy's fervent first love.

He gave himself with all his,

To Him, his beloved Chief

His arms stretched in front, toes pulled back,

Fullest form ever

That touched the temple floor,

Said it all, as he lay

In purest love and trust

His all at His feet.

 

He bowed to His demands.

He bent to His wilful ways.

The poor, patient boy prince

Made his dawn to dawn

By His and His gang's

Every word and whisper.

 

Shame to the Old Beard

Had He not come to the boy

As he clung on to the Waters

Stretching his ends to the utmost

Sure, with His thoughts !

 

 

Ah ! What were his thoughts, then ?

A seeker of Beauty he was.

In Sounds, in Motion

In shapes and colours too perhaps,

In Works, in Thoughts, in All.

He was a Prince Charming.

It seems fit that he had

A pretty Persian lass

Swimming in his sight.

With her Malabar man.

A befitting picture, I think

For his swan song.

But he left her to their

Clumsy childish plays

And floated far away.

A noble prince, musing, self-content.

 

My girl, My sweet Princess,

Did you come for him that day ?

You are a sure stunner,

After you stunned him,

Did you pick him up ?

Or, did he come straight to you,

After that wave

To the ones on this side ?

 

I know what you did,

You entered his heart, picked his song,

His light and his smile.

And since then have been dancing

In all the World's shores

On stolen silks and golds.

 

So that was how

My dear folks

The Sea is what She is.

But won't blame you though,

If you believe not my tale.

Ah, you were not the lucky one,

But you may stand by the shores

He must show up some day.

 

    *        *        *        *        *

 

 

Was it like this too ?

 

He was all along

A baby of the Blue Sea.

He was called after the Blue One, too.

You can see him at dawn

By the road besides the Blue,

A charming tot, trotting along

The little jolly monk

And gazing in wonder

At the twig in his mouth !

Ah, the way too, bears his name !

 

Do you hear his sing-song voice

Quivering with a baby pitch ?

 

He pounces on me

In matey mock fury.

To stop my mimicry.

 

Oh, What Joy !

 

We sang, we swam,

We laughed, we teased, we sparred,

We sure had fun, folks !

 

He was the Son of the Sea.

He was a lad now.

He was all song and dance.

I hear a beauty note, I tell him.

I see a magic movement, I rush to him.

He is the Gypsy Camper

Who vanishes into the Blue

`Fore I could tell him of

The silver screen soap.

The Great Black Mother 

Gathered Her child back

Into Her Great Primeval Womb.

Ah, I too am inside Her folds,

The outer ones, though,

So I hear his song,

The living, ~ever, song of

My Sweet Little Salt Prince.

 

         *        *          *        *

 

  ~ preferred to eternal, meaning the same.

 

 

The Wayside Bamboo

 

At a river bank

By a road-side

Grew a Bamboo bush

 

The Canes had diverse holes

Pecked by the fowl

And gnawed by insects, worms.

When gentle blew the breeze

The canes swayed with grace

And the notes sweet, pleasant

When it blew violent

Hideous were the steps

And the wails that froze breast

Diverse were the uses

The passing wayfarers

Made of the bush

 

*        *        *        *

 

It was a sunset time

When down the road came

A dusky, charming lad

His face a trifle sad

As his eyes beheld

The bush, with joy he swelled

He searched among the canes

Ah, found it, a virgin

He took it, carved holes

And filled it up with

The honey of his lips

Of the nectarine notes

I cannot tell you folks !

You may hear it yourself

For, across the river

He plays his notes, ever

Silent, down the river

Come and you shall hear

The sweet strains he wafts through

The low wayside bamboo

 

    T.C. I : some time on or before Sept. 1985.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death

 

Amidst all the mourning kin

He stands alone with ghostly pale

Starring stunned with disbelief

At the mystery before him

 

A day before

 With joyous hearts

They had bid

 Farewell to him

And had gone

To enjoy their

Twentieth spring

Of  togetherness

Did they wave

Goodbye to him

Or were they

Saying that

They will not

Return to him?

Was it them

Which returned

Or is it

The empty nest?

The old puzzle

Left him dumb

 

In the screen

Of his heart

Flashes past

Vivid scenes

Of happy days

In company

As the scenes

Change and change

A sudden thought

Chills his heart

A day before

They had been

A day hence

Nothing will be

An old fool’s

Lifeless words

Resonates

With life anew

As he asks

`All a dream?’

 

The priest juggles

With strange words

Machine-like

He complies with

All that is

Asked by priests

His infant hands

Had fed before

Tender food

To eager mouths

The hardened hand

Feeds now

Coarse rice

To forced mouths

The eyes that were

Flashing stars

Stares lifeless

At the sun

 

 

Two fire-pots

Come to him

Holding these

He goes ahead

Along the road

With bare chest

 

Can one know

Where he looks ?

The curious

Passers-by

Seem to be

Dead to him

 

They come to a

Stop now

The two lie on

Their last bed

Covered by

A professional

The fire pots

Becomes light

 

The fires start to burn without

The fire start to burn within

The fires now rage without

The fire now rages within

Ashes start to collect without

Ashes start to collect within

Cracking sound are heard without

Cracking sound are heard within

A big cracking sound is heard

`Shiva’ he cries and comes to life

He springs towards the piles of ash

Undaunted by the shouts of all

Before they all could contain him

He had grabbed two handfuls

Now his face shines with ash

All his cloth tears apart

`Poor boy’ they say of him

They all begin to call him mad.

 

Here is one more poem attached. It is in response to the death of my close
friend's father in 1980.
For many days I imagined the bereavement to be my own and this resulted.
The final lines seem to picture the Sannyasa ceremony. I did not know about it
then.

 

This is an instance of `Smashana Vairaghya’ (Cremation ground renunciation) turning to birth of real knowledge.  Nothing like this happened with the boy whose father died. But these were the reactions in my mind.

 


 

1.  Jai Ganesha !

Once in heaven, Boy Ganesha

   Scratched a cat in play

Mother’s chamber, entered he

  Was shocked at the sight that lay

Thick with bloody scratches

   Was his mother’s fair face

`Who dared hurt thee, Mother ?’

   Thundered he, enraged.

`Thine own hands has done that child!’

    She said with a sweet smile,

`For, it’s I indeed that dwell in

   That cat, in all earth’s life’.

Enlightened Ganesha saw

   His mother in every creature

That is why he remains to this day

   Unwed, and wise in stature.

Pray we, for the full wisdom

   That shines in His elephantine face

May He hear with His big ears

   Prayers in all our case

May His exploring heavy trunks

   Dig us out of our troubles

May His stable pot belly

   Digest all our foibles

May He crush the troubles `fore us

   And lead us in the jungle path

To His, our Mother’s abode

   That lies within our heart !

Written on 15/Jan/2002

Thanks to Thakur’s grace & Hitakamanandaji’s hint.


 

2.  God Incarnated for Me !

 

Our Lord, The Great God

    Took a human birth

And suffered with us all

    Privations on Earth

It’s all for one person, me !

    Yea, me alone here !

He had said so explicitly

    In His Ramakrishna wear

       Ah, gentle folks, may you well hear!

 

In the temple, in the City

    Played his nectarine sound

Folks gathered ‘round in gaiety

    As bees, a lotus abound

`Forget not thine own, thy God!’

    Preached He day and night

`Realize thou within thy heart

    The Godhead in all Its might’

Had not The Mother Divine

    Set him at this task?

But with body he was entwined

    So had to play His part

Cancer struck his throat hive*

    His service had no respite

`Twenty thousand such painful lives

    I’ll live and die to raise

A single soul to its divine heights’

    Declared He tenderly

And I am that soul by all my rights

    I’ve realized humbly

 

    28 April 2002; Evening-Night

 

In this poem `Me’ can mean every reader i.e. any and every person not only the poet.

* hive is the place where honey is stored. Thakur’s nectarine words are from his throat. So throat is called hive.


 

2.  For Me did God Incarnate !

 

Our own Lord, The Great God took a human birth

And suffered with us all privations on the Earth

It’s all for one person, me !Yea, me alone here !

He had said so explicitly in His Ramakrishna wear

 

In the temple, in the City played his nectarine sound

Folks gathered in gaiety as bees, a flower abound

`Forget not thine own, thy God!’ preached He day and night

`See thou within thy heart Godhead in all Its might’

Had not The Mother Divine set him at this task?

But with body he was entwined, had to play His part

Cancer struck his throat hive* His service no respite

`Thousand scores such painful lives I’ll live and die to raise

A single soul to its divine heights’ declared He tenderly

And I am that soul by all rights I’ve realized humbly

 

    28 April 2002; Evening-Night

 

In this poem `Me’ can mean every reader i.e. any and every person not only the poet.

* hive is the place where honey is stored. Thakur’s nectarine words are from his throat. So throat is called hive.

This is a `sonnet’ with twelve syllables in each line and the rhyme pattern being aa,bb,cc,dd,ee,ff, & gg with mid sentence rhyme in each pair of lines.

 


3.  Nangta, the Naked One

 

Nangta, the Naked one

Stirred the fire afresh

As he discoursed to his disciple on

The evanescence of the earth

 

`Brahman alone is true’ he said

`All else is phantom mere’

He said as only a strong Punjabi could

His body yet to suffer here

 

Awesome sight by Ganga’s shore

Besides the blazing flames

Serpentlike matted locks he wore

Dreading no forms and names

 

A petty servant idled by

Stole a burning cinder

To light his tobacco pipe

The monk bellowed like thunder

 

The gentle disciple watched bemused

Lips parted in a smile

Nangta asked when talk resumed,

`Hideth thou what guile’ ?

 

`A moment Thou speaketh, master great

Of Brahman the Real One

In a trice thou fly in rage

Making a poor man run’

 

Stunned, the Great man stood quiet

A halo round his head

`Anger, I give up this instant’

No words truer said.

 

10.5.2002 (Direct into the computer)


 

 

4.  A little naïve lad

 

 

A little naïve lad

Was begging in the streets

A most pretty young lass

He chanced indeed to meet

Her breasts were full rising

A sight he never met

Why on chest such swelling

He asked in all naiveté

The girl rushed in blushing

Told her aged mother

The lady said explaining

She’ll soon be mother

So God is sending in lay

To feed her baby

The lad walked all his way

Musing on God’s hobby

If God be so good

To a baby yet unborn

Need I go to beg food

He’ll sure send it warm

Thence on he quit brooding

On affairs of this world

And set his sights looking

For Him his very soul

Such and other stories

Did Ramakrishna tell

To narrate all his glories

With His grace I will

 

7.5.2002


 

1.  Life – Two ways out

 

The walker walks the way

Gobbling up all that lay

Soon, the eaten eat the eater

Life welts on the heater

Why at all this sojourn

The query he cannot adjourn

 

Wise folks have two ways out

Straight and one round about

 

Quit grabbing. In a trice

You are free. Shed weights, you’ll rise

A royal way but high price

 

Are trudge along but take care

Choose the good, bad beware

And work and yet beat the scare

 

7.5.2002

 

2.  Puny Man’s Anger or Big is Beautiful

 

Puny man’s anger.

The tiny top bursts, the little ego spurts and subsides

   in a silly satisfaction that is but meagre.

Strong man’s rage.

Well bound like a giant dam, roaring waters in check,

   he is verily a sage.

One, a drop of water

That hiss and sizzle but dries up no matter’

The flood gallop away

Into a maze of canals, helping all every way.

Let the drop not dry away.

Many a drop makes a flood and then it’ll have its way

Ah, Big is beautiful!

Think big, act big, for you are infinite, ever full.

Oh, Large is lovely !

Be of big heart, generous, then little worries

  Will perch on you but lightly.

 

7.5.2002


3.   Thoughts under a stuffy shirt

 

I am stuffy under my shirt

Why ?

I w’s lazy to have my bath, that is why.

And that’s why I have deaths and births.

 

Umpteen number of times have I

Given up laziness

It has brought me great troubles, nevertheless

How fond of it am I !

 

La Totapuri

I had left laziness and other ills

How many times, I cannot tell

But again made merry

 

Is there a way out?

Abhyasa Yoga ! Repeat practice

After thousand falls may come a rise

Vivekananda’s voice ring out

 

So, here, yet again, I

Deign to drop sloth and such sins

Windows cat at me winks

Prove her wrong, will I.

 

Now she laughs uproariously

Yet the same, say I

I am Tota’s lineage, that is why.

Sure a spark has come down genetically.

 

I’ve clicked the cat out of sight

Now to have my bath

Like a dusty elephant to stables after bath

I ride into the night.

 

Night, 7.08 p.m. 10 May 2002.

 

(Direct into the computer)


5.  The Holy Man and the Snake

 

A sonnet sequence

 

In a cozy hole lived a deadly snake

Folks living by did verily dread the site

A wandering monk came there one dark night

Good People warned him, Sir, risk thou not take

 

The monk said I’ve mantra to tame all creatures

The angry snake was charmed by a gentle word

Soon it quit hurting took to fruits as food

Let go its spite, gentle turned its features

 

Boys thereby noticed this phenomena

A daring naughty boy poked it with stick

The gentle snake  just coiled itself thick

Guru’s word minding, forgave their lacuna

 

Losing all dread they pelted it with stones

Left it for dead, it limped back to it’s hole

 

 

The holy man chanced back there one morning

Asked people there `bout his disciple the snake

“`tis dead Sir” they said, their words he didn’t take

Called with a word, the snake knew the meaning

 

Out came the snake, lean and haggard looking

Shocked the man asked, `why are thou in such state

Eating leaves, fruits I’ve thinned at this rate

Only that oh, yea, boys hurt me poking

 

`Oh, my poor, poor fool, indeed thou shouldns’t kill

But thou can hiss and drive off the wicked

Put not venom, but hiss indeed thou should

That’s the way to be good and  survive still

 

Such a charming tale did Ramkrishna tell

To teach worldly folks to live but be good still


6.  The Disciple and the mad elephant

 

 

Once in Hindustan was a hermitage

With his disciples there lived a wise sage

He taught the highest truth that to always

Keep in mind that God sports in many ways

 

`It’s God only that takes up many shapes

Beasts, plants, humans and as all that exist’

A disciple walking in deep woods gaped

In wonder at God’s forms he was amidst

 

An uproar broke out there in the deep woods

Trees wrenched by roots and a mighty trumpet

A warning voice rang out, `Fast as you could

Run,Run, Run away, mad tusker’s about’

 

`Thou my God’ the boy sang before the beast

Was thrown, bones broken, his God cared the least.

 

 

The hurt boy lay, more at heart than body

Was sore that elephant God had failed him

I saw God in all but He had his whims

And had hurt me much, ah, God is naughty

 

His good brothers carried him home lightly.

`Why didn’t thou run ?’, the wise Guru asked

`I stood praising him, thou said all is God,

He didn’t play his part, hurt me mightily’

 

The good teacher laughed, `the tusker’s indeed God

So was the warning mahout you should know.

His warning too was God’s very own show’

As knowledge flashed the boy did slowly nod

 

So long thou feelest pain, heed the mahout

He merges as knowledge dawns, with the behemoth


7.  …………   and then later

 

Once this disciple went about the streets

Saw a fat landlord kicking up his keep

Heart shed tears as he saw the boy weep

He intervened and stopped the heavy beats

 

Rage frustrated, the landlord rained his fists

On our holy boy, he fell down senseless

Brothers and teacher heard the news, and themselves

Brought him gently home, laid in bed to rest

 

One sprinkled water and he came around

Nother fed him milk and asked him `Do thou

Recognize him who feedest milk to thou ?’

Hear his words with halo shining round

 

He, the Great God, who beat me indeed sits

Lovingly with concern with milk me feeds

 

12.5.2002

Direct into the computer

8.  Frog with a dollar

 

Small men mock at divine incarnations

Think themselves smart, stoke their little passions

With great glee sit and gloat around a puddle

While God’s ocean is right in their middle

 

Once in a wood lived a big ugly frog

Found a shining dollar on a great rock

Grabbed it in delight, guarded carefully

Thought a world of it proud as frog could be

 

A great tusker passed over it’s puny hole

The enraged frog with great anger did call

The elephant names, raised it’s leg to kick

The bemused great beast walked into the thick

 

May the ocean tide flood our lowly holes

And draw us frogs into its treasure laden whole

 

 

13.5.2002

Direct into the computer

 


 

4.  Poems vs Works

 

A few words well drafted

A poem or prose well adapted

A well earned pleasure in heart

A task well done, good parts

 

A strenuous task well done

A great joy on completion

A poem in space and time

Reaity it’s name

 

Poem done I’ve a task at hand

To write cycling the land

All this my mind says

The heart with formal verse stays

 

Ah, I sigh at the great ones

Who radiated poems in all their actions

 

14.5.2002

 

Direct into the computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CLARIHEWS

 

1. Swami Hitakamananda

 

Swami Hitakamananda

Is certainly not an anaconda

But he retrieves the ball in a flash like one

Though his service is a bit easily broken

 

 

2. Chidambara Chaitanya

 

Br. Chidambara Chaitanya

Is a man of many parts, yea

But raise your voice a notch higher

That’s enough to rattle his calm exterior

 

3. Sampurnananda

 

Sampurnananda

Walks on the verandah

Looking for a prey to pounce upon with poetry

All flee him, poor him, goes hungry

 

Limericks

 

1. Brother Sendhil

 

Our beloved brother Sendhil

Does verily loath to stand still

     Between hostel and C.O.

     Runs along a path `O’

But poor him, work done is but nil.

 

 

2. Brother Chandrasekhar

 

Chandrasekhar, our dear brother

Computers, for him no bother

     But he has his moods

     Loves nice tasty foods

Humour him, you won’t find like him `nother

 

 

3.  Swami Sutapananda

 

Dare you call him an island chilly

He’ll hot up in a rage willy-nilly

     Sutap’s is a dear pet

     In him work at its best

Hope life’s flow’ll round him off fully

 

 

 

 

4.  Swami Garishtananda

 

Cling, tring, ring, says, `hello’, C.O.

Least talk, sealed lips, Garishta ‘s on flow

     Has he grown a tiny horn

     With big affairs going on ?

May he retain a simple monk’s glow !

 

5. Br. Ramesh G.

 

Ramesh G. ‘s serving food and coffee

To all their share, as instructed, strictly

     Need you some pickles

     His brow would grow wrinkles

A good soldier indeed, yours obediently


 

 

9.  Three Fishes

 

Fishes are of three sorts

One goes nowhere near fisher’s nets

Swims the seas merrily

Monarchs verily

 

nother sort gets caught

But like lightning jumps off

`There goes a big one’ say folks

Not bad these, in a trice wakes

 

But a third sort, a lousy one

Caught, it buries itself down

Dreaming itself to be safe and able

Ends up on gentlemen’s table

 

If we can’t contrive to be ever-free

Let’s at least be alert and jump off into our sea.

 

15.5.2002


 

 

5.  Two-in-one-in-two or My Twin Souls

 

Sarada, O Mother of our Order

Sri Ramakrishna, our Sangha Guru

I bow down to thee seated together

Within my heart thou hast penetrated through

 

You gave me wits to ask a boon that thou may

Reign over me seated within my heart

If my deeds since are bad, don’t mind, please stay

Give me wits again to play well my part

 

O Sarada, seated in Thakur’s heart

Why do thou not show thy blessed face again ?

O Thakur, by thy censure thou did thwart

My downward slide, sight of thou may I gain !

 

Thou my twin soul, two-in-one, one-in-two

Why wait till death, show thyself when alive too !

 

17 May 2002

Direct into the computer

 


Haikus (?)

 

1. Potted plants

Bound by four walls

Struggling roots

 

2. The mighty forest tree perhaps

Pities the humans

As puny rootless beings

Till a gang arrives

With a power-saw

Or

Tree pities humans

As puny rootless beings

Till it sees a power-saw

 

3. As many dishes

So many

Diseases

Br.Rameshwara chaitanya

At dining hall on 17/5/02

4. Man on death bed

Watches by the window

leech crawling from leaf to leaf

 

5. Man holds on to a pillar

Cries `let me go’

God laughs

 

6. Roll the sky like leather, perhaps thou can.

Holding on to thy bonds, to be free thou can’t.

Stockholm syndrome all around.

 

7.  Buddha watches

A great fish swimming in the vast sea

Says, `hello’

 

18/5/2002 Direct into the computer; first two on 17.5.2002 night.

8.       Drunkards dance

Thakur reels

`A’ greets `Z’ under an azure sky

 

18.5.2002 ; 2 p.m.

 

9.       The gentle dog naps

Mating, eating, duties done

It dreams – What ?

 

5.07 p.m.

 

10. Man mutters looking at his dog

`Poor mutt, thinks of only bitches and bones’

Dog gazes at his top dog

With like thoughts

God watches the scene amused.

 

11.  Dustling flies proudly

Till a dull cranny

Swallows it entirely

 

12. Seed with stuff

Strives as it sprouts

In time the strong wall splits


6. Orator and the young lady

 

A young lady devotedly

Went repeatedly

To an orator’s rally.

 

Mightily touched, he

Asked the lady

`What you see in me ?’

 

`Sir’, replied she,

`I had a goat billy,

Which I loved dearly.

 

Thy beard a nice goatee

Much reminds me

Of my beloved billy

 

Such goats are we

In the eyes loving many.

 

18.5.2002; 5.52 p.m.

 


13.  Races A,B,C

On a new slate furiously

A wizened child merry

 

19 May, 2002

 

14. Amidst mantras chant

I sight and write a haiku

A flaw in the whole ?

 

15.       At Daily Mirror

I look, read and see picture

Graft, good and terror

 

16.       I outside

Fishes within

Cage within a cage

 

17.       Many selves, sorry

In di vi du a li ty ?

One Self is merry

 

18.       I saw a fine haiku

fore I could tie it to paper

It fled in fear

 

19.       A Poem‘s good in itself

Explanations    murder it

Putrid corpse drives all

20.       A poem `s joy in itself

Some explanation enhances it

It `s pleasure on rereading

 

21.       Cut flowers, a pity

Flowers full on a tree

A boquet to Infinity

 

20.5.2002; Direct into computer
22. I’ve more dolls than you

I am virtuous, you are sinful

I and you are in One

 

22.       Your doll I envy

Your virtue `s feigned, you rogue

In thee I submit

 

23.       Screeches, barks, talks, songs

Punching the great pause

To lapse back to silence

 

24.       I talk, I am hit

I don’t, I feel I `m left out

At it, it’ll straighten out

 

25.       Cloudy faces looking at the sun

Added up. In fury

Sun punched a hole

 

26.       Depression – what `s it?

God’s long faced joke on us all

Humour `s just below

 

27.       Many Haikus I see

As I lie down

They flee on waking

 

28.       Shore bird dozes on a mast

Ship sails far

 Futile attempts to fly away

Mast home

 

29.       Sad body I face

Sad face is another race

I’m no qualified ace

 

21/5/2002

30.       Kitty’s on the roof

Doggy shows its teeth to it

A friendly contest ?

 

31.       Dog pounce on kitty

Punch a hole in its belly

Blood `s on whose hands ?

 

32.       Peacocks’ show is on

Dog barks from behind the fence

Duty for its sake ?

 

33.       Printer has its whims ?

Wizard brings out all her tools

She plays with herself

 

34.       He `s intense with thoughts

God comes, `What `s thy great wish, Ask!’

`Tally my accounts’

 

35.       Hand clutch the other

Gazes up, gazes down

Baton exchange

 

36.       As sister chatters

Brother rides a bicycle

Mountains watch amused

 

37.       Friends on a beachside

Flashy waves cover their tracks

Retreads, fresh waves, who `s last ?

 

38.       Child holds mother’s hands

As he walks on field’s ridges

Baby `s safe at breasts

 

21/5/2002 ; direct into computer

 

 

Death

 

39. A bright green food cart

Drawn by a thousand small ants

Cage called grass hopper

 

40. He alights from plane

To catch a connecting flight

Abandoned plane burns

 

41.Child runs home from play

Mother unzips  dirty dress

Dying woman smiles

 

On Haiku

 

42. Haiku – What is it ?

Needle’s small eye that catches

Ramji’s elephants

43. Haiku – What `s it ?

Needle’s small eye that catches

Lord’s very own camels

44. A thousand haikus

Tell in a thousand score words

`God, I adore you’

45. A thousand haikus

Tell in a thousand score words

`God, I thank you too’

46. Calmness round her

Wizened woman tells her beads

Mind’s tongue rolls a haiku

 

Flower

47.Lady plucks a flower

Ah, what exquisite fragrance

Under the high heels

May 22, 2002; Direct into the computer

48. Bitter, Ahm, what `s it ?

Straight to head, a merry kick

Haiku, that is it

 

49. Watching the rainfall

Shaven head, knees down, face blank

It `s raining in Mars

50. A blue bicycle

Thunder, lightning and rainfall

Blue girl’s merry claps

 

51. Child in dad’s safe hands

Gapes in wonder at new world

For trillionth time

 

52.  Ant is limping back

`nother passing, sniffs, goes on

Organization

 

53.  Cat and mouse God’s Play

“`t`s death to me” cries the mouse

`Who are you ?’ asks God

 

54.  Strict no-nonsense boss

Or blabbering  nonsense wreck ?

A toss – heads or tails

 

55. `Off with his dumb head !’

The pleased dictator looks back

Boomerang at neck

 

56.  Western bulldog’s fangs bare

Northern bully’s nuclear stare

`Peace’ preach candlewallahs

Yea, not one piece

We’ll be blown to many pieces

Better we be in one piece

                        However bruised by war         23/5/2002

10. Sailor Bird

 

A tiny bird lived on a river-side tree

It flew as much as it’s wings could carry

Once it went a bit far into the delta

Sat on a ship’s mast a sight it never saw

`Twas cozy, felt dozy, fell into snooze long

Woke up to find that the ship had gone into far

Deep seas, terrified the little bird thought

Breathed hard, pumped energy, it flew up north

No land, day’s end it came back to the mast

Next days it tried to fly south, west and east

`midst waters in ship alone it found its hope

Settled there,`mong sailors found its true home

 

North, east, west, south all directions we fly

To find that in our own hearts all goodthings lie.

 

24/5/2002; Direct into the computer

 

 

 

 

 

 


11. `Go Forward’

 

Once a humble wood-cutter walked his way to wood

He saw coming his way a youth exceedingly good

As of custom he bowed and asked `Sir, say thou a word’

The holy man replied in brief, `Son, go thou forward’

 

The man paused went further and found a sandal grove

Glad at heart, he made his gains with his treasure trove

As days passed it struck his heart that he had stopped short

“`Go forward’ the holy man said”, so went a bit more north

Ecstatic he found gold that made him king of town

Content he lived till it came to him that he had `gain come down

He packed his bag and went forward and found precious gems

Returned to folks,  his bag full, richest among them

 

Till one day he mused again and walked to the hill-top tree

And found that light that played around his Guru walking free

 

 

56.Child breaks a live twig

Boy stones a stray dog

Evolution : Sep. Eleven

 

25 June 2002; Straight to computer

 

 

 

12. Sky-bird

 

High up in the azure sky lived a mighty bird

It drank manna from heavens, no touch with the world

Had its birdy work to do so did lay an egg

The egg was laid so high above no tree or nest to leg

So it fell down, so high up, took a long long time

Falling, friction warmed it up it hatched in no time

Chick came out falling head down soon grew its wings

Saw earth closing on and realized death coming

Wisdom flashed, with an instant snap wings carried it up

Flew its way to mother with it to manna sup

 

Ramas, Krishnas, Buddhas and Christs, such birds are they

Born free they come to earth to show us the high way

We who think we’re puny birds we too can rise so high

Every worm looks up, evolves and sups manna in high sky

 

 

26/5/2002; Direct into computer

 

57.                   Under the banyan

Young girl teaches the old man

Silence drown all noise

 

 

 

 

13. On an insect climbing a plastic chair or  Lok na pok

 

The insect climbs it’s great Gaurishankar peak

Slips, tries, reaches the top of the chair plastic

Skiing down, crawls on in search of food morsel

Gets it, survives shoes, goes to muse in its cell

Write its own insect poems, think insect thoughts

Lucky one, dies of old age, well lived, or sorts

 

Baby fights its way down, cries victory

Struggles `gainst alien force, that `s life’s story

Gets grub, job, promotions, posts and power

Builds, accumulates, kills, gives favour

Name talked about in awe, in hushed whispers

A cretin standing high amidst its peers

 

Crowded cretin dreams – comes a sudden light

The great golden Self wakes with all its might

Or

The great golden Self wakes with a smile bright

 

 

58.`Hello, please wait’ ; Pause :

Bird song reaches heart through ears

`Hi’, business jerks

 

 

 

 

 

14.  Navigating Life

 

Winds blow heavy, stream swift, rocky ledge and weeds

Helmsman up, on rudder strong grip, boat speeds

Deftly  skips the skipper, narrow stony wall

Slightest touch, boat `ll be smithereens all

Knit brows, salty sweat taste, captain holds firm

Rapid fall to slow plains, now his rest time

Friendly winds blow, he pulls out beauty sail

Puffs a content ring, relaxed, by the rail

 

Such is life’s current rest follow labour

God’s mercy wind takes you to safe harbour

If had worked your way down stream with ardour

 

Perhaps you `re born with grace in thy store

Beware, perfection to fall; many in lore

Lust and lucre : flee them to reach the shore

 

 

59.  I’ll put down the phone

Harassed executive to wife

Two, three, four, … ? Or one ?

 

28/5/2002; 11.44 p.m. Direct into computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

15.  The Spider

 

The strongest, subtlest one on earth lay limp

On my door knob outspreading all it’s limb

I gently lifted the deft creature

And let it float down into its bed nature

It rises anew to spin fresh gossamer

Have it’s fun trapping, what a fine weaver !

 

My Mother, sweet spider, spins Maya web

Has Her joy to trap and strike us down numb

Dare one struggle, she lets her fly away

She devours them all who in fine bed stay

She goes on playing with them till they gain strength

And break free from the net at some rebirth

 

Web and we victims all, born off Her womb

Fight hard, she’ll wink us out of this sticky comb

 

 

60.  Dead on my door knob

Tireless gossamer weaver

Big Comrade beckons

 

 

 

29/5/2002

 

 

 

 

16.  Boss

 

`I`m thinking what to do with you’ says boss

`I`m thinking the same of you’ thinks his boss

Ad infinitum it goes.  What am I ?

Nobody ? It hurts to be a small fry.

`Mind your position, see reality’

That can’t be the way, I`m Infinity

Ant is great as tusker is not a tale

Great or small in size is not the finale

Spirit is not fiction and it `s fullness

To be the last boss is life gone in madness

 

Firefly in darkness proud of it’s small light

Stars shine forth with proud twinkles, then  moon bright

Each bosses o’er the other till Sun comes

Thou art That but play thy roles, say the tomes

 

 

61.  `Thinking what to do with you’

Ditto thinks his boss

Roles in a play. Peace.

 

30.5.2002; Direct into computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7.  The Ass

 

With pleasure twitches the nerve, sags after

Delight kicks its way up, atones later

Even after thousand falls sure a rise

But an ass may not buy at such a price

Why go for giddy noxious gutters

While nutrient nectar is for takers

Go get it right now, to Spirit go thou

Body’s an ass, to its dictates  firm `no’

 

His name is the stick, spank hard thy body

His name is the carrot, feed mind this toddy

Use it often. Other means are  shoddy

 

Keep it at back that rise `s the last word

Bad habit `s not nature, they’re quickly shed

Crack, the obstinate ass `s easily led

 

 

62. Thousand falls then rise

Obstinate ass pays high price

Be a horse, that’s nice

 

 

31/May/2002; straight into computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

17.  To be selfish, seems,  is some times for good

 

To be selfish, seems,  is some times for good

Good will, yes, but keep a distance, thou should

Sticky affection is an early version

Which may soon grow to a full blown  passion

 

Thy mind may call it selfish, but take care

It’s still under the sway of form it wears

The old ass is wily, plays its own tricks

Has thy dear mind play ball to its kicks

 

There `s a Mother who `s wiser than us all

She’ll take care of you along with your pal

Leave off thy pretence thou art a know all

 

Grow thyself. Become  thou a mighty tree

Thou will cast a homely shade, fruits free

But thy all affairs with Sun it would be

 

63.    Plant says - `goats, come’ - dies

Tree casts a huge shade, gives fruits

It’s affair `s the Sun

 

 

 

 

 

18.  Counsel to a clouded mind

 

Under the five trees sat a Hatha Yogi

Showing the laity, feats of Neti, Dhauti

Among the gathering was the lad Yogin

Thoughts lustful, low, that won’t go, lay nagging

Thought he, such tricks, `ll sure drive them out

Help him to reach God, a sure way, no doubt

To his Guru he went, `Sir, teach me a way’

`Clap thy hands with God’s name, sins ‘ll fly away

Like birds on a tree on sound of a clap’ said he

The lad had doubts, went again to the yogi

The Guru brought him back,`such tricks not for you.

Will make you body bound, lay chains anew’

Though in doubt, the disciple gave it a try.

Mind’s cloud melted away. Lord’s name let’s too cry

 

64. Under the banyan

Claps Lord’s name in elation

Birds fly and so sin

 

3/6/2002 for 2/6/2002

 

Neti & Dhauti : Feats such as swallowing a thin piece of cloth and bringing them out and swallowing gallons of water and throwing them out. Hatha Yogins do such feats to maintain the body.

 

 

 

19.  Occult Powers

 

Once a fine lad went out in search of God

Many a mile in deep forest he trod

Met a sage who gave him a name to call

Found a fit place to do his penance all

Years hence he awoke to a power

Welling up in him like a reservoir

Elated the lad strutted about

Forgot God to find whom he had set out

God took a simpleton’s shape and came

`Sir, yonder tusker can thou kill, thou of fame ?’

`See for thyself’ said he, it died that instant

And at his word rose again just like that

`Has this feat helped you to find God’ asked he

And vanished waking the lad from his folly

 

65.  Me and my power

Swiftly flow down the sewer

To make a mire

 

66.  Mixed with God’s mercy

Broad channels `fore meeting sea

Great blessing we be

 

 

 

 

 

 

20.  Blind man’s Buff

 

I feel in my bones I’d been here before

Had had all this fun and my share of woe

All these sweet friendships and bitter back talks

How many regrets and thoughtful long walks

From watery womb, in blindfolds to tomb

Lives slip past,  human and creatures dumb

Moms have pecked me, licked me and breast fed me

Been he after she and she after he

 

Enough is enough of all these dull games

Had had my fill calling them beauty names

Now I’m wearied, on you lay all my shames

 

Let out the secret, can’t hold any longer

Were you waiting for me to get stronger ?

Open my folds to see you. Game’s over.

 

67. Groping womb to tomb

Catching many moms, dads, friends

Game ‘s o’er now. Release.

 

4/6/2002; Direct to computer

 

 

 

 

 

21.  Train to Nowhere ?

 

A dark big Amazon with scythe and a green

A pretty lass in black silk that flash with bright sheen

A child with skirts blowing she fights to put in place

A blind old man groping with his neighbour’s speech’s pace

Vendors with vadai coffee venturing with hope

A mustached baby at mirror playing with soap

Life in myriad forms in the bowels of train

When and where to alight to try to know is vain

 

Some try to jump the gun, pull chains, go down

Some try to read the slip but of little gain

Some just kill time but at great cost and pain

 

Pilot guard at the helm, straight way to Her

She’ll let you into the secret of all this hell fire

Get to Her in engine, it’s all magic sure

Or

Get to Her in engine, nothing is lovelier

 

68.         Ticket can’t be read

Old, young, rich, poor, good, bad, all

Where to ? Ask driver

69.         Master eats ice cream

We too ? No, ice cream eats us

He eats, a Master

Or

Vivekananda ate ice cream

We too ? No, ice cream eats us

He ate, a Master

 

On board Kovai Express; 5/6/2002

22.      Foul fish or fresh flowers?

 

Two fishwives of foul fish went with their wares

In bazaar all sold, back with their money’s shares

Black clouds, rain started, no time to run home

Sought shelter in a hut, besides thyme

Flowers were strewn about, fragrance in the air

The lady there a florist, sold them in the fair

The fishwives were fed well. A fine bed welcome

But no, they tossed about; sleep would not come

 

The fragrance of the flowers was too much for them

They thought, at last, the basket with foul fish some

With it at their head, they lay in rest wholesome

 

That is we mortals with foul fun finite

We forget the full joy of God infinite

Let’s wake up, behind us the dark dull night

 

70. Fishwives, road home, rain

Rest in florist’s home. No sleep

Fish vat at head. Snore

Or

70.                   Fishwives, road home, rain

Rest in florist’s home. No gain

With fish vat cloud nine

 

For 6/6/2002 on 7/6/2002

Enacted by Cpt. Students

 

 

 

23.  Three Robbers

 

A citizen had once to cross a wood

Three robbers of a gang upon him pounced

Robbing him of all he had, one robber said

‘Kill him, better for us if he be dead’

Nother said, `Spare him, let’s just bind him well’

Left him bound. One came back. `Untie you I shall’

Cut his bonds, showed him the way out of woods

The robbed man said, ‘Please come Sir, dine in our house’

‘No,’ said he, ‘cops’ll catch me, I’m an outlaw

They parted each their way, darkness and light, yea

 

Slothful tamas kills, active rajas saves

That too lay bonds, which serene sattva breaks

But jewel gold has some impurities

Purest gold breaks, it’s unseen by the eyes.

 

On board Kovai Express back to Cbe. On 9/6/2002

For 7/6/2002

 

71.  Best of good folks too. 

Have a tint of self lurking

Hail the rare free one !

 

 

 

 

 

 

24

 Phalaharini Kali Puja

 

The Guru of all sits still

In front of the Mother of all

A vicarious worship goes on

She eats all the fruit that he lays on

He climbed all trees brought all fruit

Dark, red and bright. Lay them at Her feet

He laid them with chants, ate she in silence

Hold this sight, O Mind, flicker not even once

Thou wouldst find thy dross being sucked up

Do the least of his deeds and offer thy cup

She will fill it with nectar to fill thy life

Token enactment would end all strife

She the virgin, eternal feminine

Salute Her in all, joy is thine

 

 

72.  The Guru of all

In front of Mother of all

Vicariously

 

On Shodashi Puja night 10/6/2002 around 10.45 p.m.

 

 

 

 

 

25.  Onward !

 

A  girl set out for Jagannath Darshan

Didn’t know the way, asked folks for direction

They helped much as they could, she reached the shrine

Had vision to her heart’s content, cloud nine

 

So is Life Spiritual, stir out first

Then thou wouldst find guide to pass the hard test

Vain is the life that’s entwined with marsh weed

He had slept in sloth, so, o’er him they’d gained

 

Arise, awake and march on thou brave heart

Sloth and stupor doesn’t  suit on thy part

God is up for thy grab, life is so short

 

So gird up, on thy feet, start thy long march

Her name is the switch that’ll light thy heart torch

With it out of dark woods, sun will light thy path

 

73.  Stir out on a path

Somebody will show the way

River’ll reach the sea

 

11/6/2002; 10.50 p.m. straight into computer

 

 

 

 

 

26.  Paramahamsa Walks

 

Hefty, puffy, Paramahamsa walks

Unconcerned, naked, with smile as he shocks

As nasty kids pelt him with stones, he runs

Laughing at his wounds, `Ah, my Lord has fun’

Enters Mother’s shrine Her name loudly speaks

At his fervent chant, temple wall shakes

Beggars shun him, eats with friendly stray dogs

From leftover leaves standing amidst bogs

 

‘Nother of same kind watches intently

`Ah, a perfect soul, I too be like thee ?’

His kin, for a word, after him goes he

 

The man throws stones, but persists our Hriday

Ganga and gutters thou see the same way’

Says he, ‘thou has had thy knowledge that day’

 

 

74.  Nasty kids pelt him with stones

Runs, laughs at his wounds

‘Ah, my Lord has fun’

 

13/6/2002; 9.30 p.m. straight into computer

 

 

 

 

 

27. Ma, this is the grief that sorely grieves my heart

 

Ma, this is the grief that sorely grieves my heart

My best friend, my good mind, tells clean what’s right on my part

But my worst foe, my other mind, takes me down the drain

To the ways of  flesh it makes me yield, oh, what strain !

 

Ma, this is the grief that sorely grieves my heart

That you stand laughing doing nothing on your part

I tumble, I get up, for ions the silly show goes on

I, poor I, wretched I, by your Maya have been conned

 

Ma, this is the grief that sorely grieves my heart

That noxious sense pleasures have hooked me on their leash short

That the me which has tasted the bliss of infinity

Is still held in chains by body’s infirmity

 

Ma, to kick this habit, even if you wouldn’t aid

You can’t hold me down, your store  of weapons I’ll myself raid

 

 

 

75.  I know the way right

But go back when goal’s in sight

Hooked to Maya blight

 

 

 

 

 

 

8.  It’s all only a play

 

Relic of the purest flesh that walked this earth

Has mingled with this, my body, in its sheath

This, my mind, which hovers around this flesh

Mingles with His mind when it’s pure and fresh

The rarer mind has found utmost joy

In His company more than in any earthly toy

Then why this mind goes tangent towards earth

In His lap when it has secure berth

 

Who’ll answer this question that vexes me ?

This body mind slips off however my struggles be.

When will it be that it ever soars round thee ?

 

Ah, let me take heart, it’s all only play

However frightful scenes setup thou may

Not easily frightened, thy child, I say

 

 

 

76.  In Thy love safe berth

But mind goes tangent to earth

Ah, Thy tricks no dearth

 

15/6/2002; Direct into computer

 

 

 

 

 

9.  A New Beginning ?

 

The earth rotates on its axis, hence day and night

Revolves round the sun, so a year, right ?

As long these goes on, is there a new day or year ?

But, we tire of sameness, all this wear and tear

So we dream new dreams, invent fresh starts

And call new days, new years and many such new  parts

Is there any new thing, unrepeated history ?

Past less present, joy without worry ?

 

`Present alone is, make the best of it’, says one

`Work for future’, ‘nother says, ‘walk toward the sun’

Thou art eternal, say scriptures in unison

 

Still with newness let’s side, for death is a lie

For novelty, life, joy and strength let’s vie

So long we dream, let’s dream without a sigh

 

 

77. Earth rotates, revolves

Day, year, So what’s new here ?

Dream not or dream newness

 

16/6/2002; direct into computer

 

 

 

 

28.  The Origin

 

A twig broken, stuck up in earth, sprouts life

Ant crawls up, spider strikes, thrusts legs as knife

Spider starves, falls limp, ants carry it off

Ever busy, breeding and keeping stock

On air, seas, animals, humans, ride seeds

To perpetuate their precious species

Tiny blade of grass tries to raise its head

Each and every time boots crush in their tread

 

There’s a living dynamo working away

Drawing from which all life forms make their way

Myriad psychedelic life lights flashing gay

 

To the Origin I wish to turn now

Not to these to which we’re all drawn somehow

Come climax, let’s bask and merge with Her glow

 

78.  Humans longing for their Source

Male vs. female

Divine Origin

 

17/6/2002; Direct into the computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

10.  Dreams

 

Dream life, what are you indeed made of?

You slip in unawares and nicely show-off

You manage to change my personality

Make me a woman or old man with frailty

 

An hour runs into a whole lifetime

Back into an hour at waking time

This life forgotten there and that life here

All vividness melts off when next is near

 

Lives bygone coming in nostalgia?

Lives yet to come showing up via?

‘Nother reality or just trivia?

 

It’s sure a link in the joint life cycle

I dare not miss it to come a full circle

To sleep waking, wake sleeping’s the principle

 

79.  O Dreams, what are you?

You make me anything else

Sleep waking – Life’s key

 

 

18/6/2002; Direct into the computer

 

 

 

 

Krishna dark cloud

Storm dust cloud difference trees not distinguished  then God alone is

Practice of disciplines cloud of ego and ignorance vanishes

Cloud gathers rainfall, water flows through spout

Lens burns paper when cloud disappers 583 p

Not inside the house – of Maya

Maya ego like cloud with cloud of Maya do not see effect of Sun of knowledge

If I keep money near will raise clouds 387 g

 

Sun cannot be seen if cloud rises

Clouds rumbled and lightning flashed 568 b – Shibu matches

Sight of clouds recalled Krishna to Radha

Vedantic monk danced at sight of clouds

Peacock emotion awakened

Cloud is source of Water 157 e – lion


29. Clouds

 

Clouds up on the sky hide the light of Sun

Clouds in my mind hide the light within

Lens concentrates direct Sun and burns shreds

My good mind unclouded can face all nerds

 

I and mine, two words, which clouds the fine mind

Lust and wealth, two things of the fogging kind

Thine, Tuhu, one word that lets the light through

God, Atman, Spirit lifts the foggy brew

 

Dark Mother Kali is the Maya cloud

Welcome her like peacock, stage a dance proud

She’ll shower grace, then to see the Sun, we could

 

God the Sun forms clouds and flows down as rains

Nourishes us, disperses clouds, all gains

For us to walk towards him, alone He shines

 

80.  Clouds up on the sky

Clouds hide light within also

I love, my wealth – fogs

 

19/6/2002; direct into computer

 

 

 

30.  Doctors and Teachers

 

Doctors are of three kinds and so teachers

One prescribes, lets patient, student at his wits

Next persuades to study, follow diet

He is a better one, not the best but quite

The best one force their way into stubborn rock

Turn even an ass mind to a swift horse

Such a doc. will pump chest with a knee press

And bring back her patient from Death’s address

 

Thou art the expert doc and we thy patients

If we happen to skip thy prescribed Gospels

Thou knock us around fast to our senses

 

Thou art the Teacher of teachers to us wards

Thy words are strewn as pearls and sung by bards

Thou goad us from our piggish pranks to you hard

 

81. Some teachers just teach

Mediocre persuade

Best break into rocks

 

82.  Some docs just prescribe

Mediocre persuade

Best wrest back from death

 

20/6/2002; Direct into computer

31.                   Leaf-counters

 

Cartoon characters need to keep talking

Their blah, blah balloons must be hovering

Then only their emptiness is hidden

They talk high things seated in their divan

Of country, war and peace and even God

But an ounce of doing is for them hard

They are busy planning, counting engagements

To make speeches with more enumerations

 

In a sweet mango grove a bunch barged in

To count trees and leaves, leaving fruits therein

Aren’t they fools untasting fruits, over leaves din ?

 

Let us not be like silly leaf counters

In silence let’s search for God in all encounters

He’s the luscious fruit lying unseen by sounders

 

 

83.  Blah, blah, balloon bobs

Cartoon characters walk on

Missing fruits for leaves

 

 

 

21/6/2002; Direct into computer; 10.27 p.m.

 

 

 

Leaf-counters

Cartoon characters need to keep talking;
Their blah, blah balloons must be hovering
- Then only their emptiness is hidden.
They talk high things seated on their divans,
Of country, war and peace and even God.
But an ounce of doing is for them too hard
- They are busy planning, counting engagements
To make more speeches with yet more enumerations.

In a sweet mango grove a bunch barged in
To count the trees and leaves, leaving the fruit unseen
Untasted. Why did these fools so fussily come in?

Let us not be silly leaf-counters.
In silence let's search for God in all encounters
He's the luscious fruit lying unseen by talkers


Blah, blah, balloon bobs.
Cartoon characters walk on,
Missing fruit for leaves.




32.                   Quarrels

 

Strife, fanaticism, and such ills plague

Fundamentalism and faith in league

Why such strange mix? Because of blinkered sight

God shows to each according to his light

 

All say their watch alone shows right time

While all approximate, sun rightly chime

Nearer we are to sun, the less we quarrel

When sun burns its way into us, never will

 

A man saw a creature under a tree

He saw it red, some blue, and some as green

They quarreled and at last went to see

A tramp who had his home under that tree

 

He said, `All thy words are true but partial

He is all this but at times with colours nil’

Chameleon like, God has all names and forms

Formless too shines. So let’s not throw crude bombs.

 

84.  Chameleon like

God - all forms and formless too

Fun - watching changes

 

 

23/6/2002; direct into computer

 

33.  Distant sound …

 

God, the soul of our souls, is not a mere hearsay

Not a Japanese vase, to, in a corner, quaintly lay

God is much more a man than any man of our life

Or closer than any woman, mother, sister or wife

He, She, is the supreme person of all personalities

He, She is the core of `I’, the source of all our vanities

God is He, She, call as you like, He’s infinite

Yet so acute His ears, can hear the footfall of a mite

She is the living power-house of love, which overfills

All these little piggy box loves which, to us, life bills

 

He seems distant, abstract, so is ocean from afar

But as you approach, hear waves washing ashore

Then vivid ‘fore your eyes splashing you gaily

So will God be, if you inch towards Him daily

 

 

85.  God the Power house

Fills all our piggy bank loves

Takes us in Her folds

 

24/6/2002; Direct into computer; 6.50 p.m.

 

 

 

 

 

34.  Photograph

 

His holy photograph looms before me

Its original starts to take shape within me

Black nitrate solution has taken the image

Blackness within but lights slowly emerge

The Original from my heart walked the earth

Got photographed, hid back into darkness beneath

The photo tugs the origin gently from the dark

The Real responds, has Its moods, takes some work

 

Hang on to His photographs, drink in the sight

This shadowy light will switch on the heart’s light

Sun will rise, behind you, the dull, dark night

 

Till then, make the best use of this shadow

The moon shows the way, when you walk the night meadow

Up from moonlit dream walk, sun comes knocking at your window

 

85.  The Real slipped out

Walked the earth, got photographed

Back inside heart’s folds

 

25/6/2002: Direct into computer. 9.18 p.m.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11.  Flower

 

This flower is the life of all mortals

It floats in the centre of one’s heart

The name Love is writ large on its petals

It lies unopened at the start

 

Light from other blossoms

Will open this young bud

Darkness from withered buds some

Almost strikes it dead

 

But no, life is forever

No bud ever withers fully

Dark is never for ever

Light remains potentially

 

But for you, my dear

No little lights will do

Drink in the light from the Sunflower

Nothing less for you

 

Into thy blossomed heart

Let the Love of all loves sit

From It may you never part

Till thou merge thyself into it

 

86.  Other blossoms light

This bud in one’s heart

Sun flower alone for thy part

 

26/6/2002; 8.24 p.m.   Direct into computer

 

12.  Competition

 

There is a competition around

Species compete for food

Worst adopted go aground

Best makes it good

 

The worsted, reenter

Endowed with better sense

This time fares better

Some still act dense

 

Into a cellular womb again

For better or worse

Ride a better body, gain

Evolving in due course

 

Body evolves at infinitesimal pace

Mind wakes still slowly

It’s a long windy marathon race

To the highest from the most lowly

 

How it all started, can one ever say?

With a wink, God, involved into an amoeba

Since then goes on this play

Of life, gasses and supernova

 

87.  God winks – amoeba

Evolution starts – slow game

Buddha hood – Game won

 

27/6/2002; Direct into computer; 8.20 p.m.

 

35.  Cleanliness

 

Cleanliness is next to Godliness, yea.

To be clean in mind is the only Law

Growing this will take you nearest to God

‘Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God’

 

Truthfulness is an easy path to be pure

Married to a great Will, would, all ills, cure

Truthful one naps on the lap of God High

Impossible to stray, for him, well nigh

 

Truth seems simple, but has many stages

In word is basic but it takes ages

In mind and deeds, a long battle rages

 

Simplicity and truthfulness - God’s boon

One so endowed is a precious full moon

Beware of deception or thy fall soon.

 

88.  Cleanliness is next to God

Yea, pure will see God

In Truth thou shall trod

 

 

 

28/6/2002; direct to computer; 7.58 p.m.

 

 

 

13.  Time

Time!

What is time?

Time as History and Time as my life

In History Time has evolved Life

Time causes backslides, involutions

Corruptions, causing revolutions

Life, Nations, Civilizations

On the march with patience

Ahead, fall back, ad infinitum

`s the dreary dull story of  Time

 

Me in time!

I tumble, walk, and mime

Look out, gobble, grasp

In friendship hands clasp

Joyful togetherness

But Time separates

Joy subsides, wallow in gloom

Despairing to sight a bloom

Joyful, sad, ad nauseam

That’s the tale of my life’s Time

 

Joys and sorrows of selves or nations

Are waves of Time’s oceans

It’s a steed, we rarely try to ride

Some do dare to sit over its rough hide

It runs at their will

Or at their word lie still

 

89.  Time, a rough ride, dare you still

Soon runs at your will

At your word stands still

 

29/6/2002; direct to computer;

14. Water

A dialogue:

 

Lament :

 

In these wavy waters I ride my boat

I fight the strong waves and try best to bolt

Waves sweep inside and drench me with sorrow

Leaving me exhausted scooping out, Oh !

The waters sometimes rocks me softly as cradle

Smooth goes the lifeboat with gentle paddle

In this dual throng of sorrows and joy

Life goes on with no purpose, aye!

 

Answer:

 

Thou art of the same substance as water

This body-mind, thy boat is meant to shatter

To fight, thy station, results no matter

 

The waters are immortal Infinity

Thy body-mind houses a spark, tiny

A joker’s game, splitting one into many

 

90.  Water in a pot

Rides a jolly boat

To fall into its sea host

 

30/6/2002; Direct into computer

 

15.  Stone

 

Bruised, I rushed that I could draw comfort from

The soft lap of declared friendship

He was soft all round, but for me, no room

In his bosom, I discovered, a hard stone chip.

 

‘Nother talks of law and order

Which has shrunk the space in his heart

A keeper of law’s corner stone, a jail warder

His Masters’ soldier playing his part

 

I turn to God, run to the shrine

Cry my woes before the Deity

My dead stone of despair stay, no gain

God before me remain stony

 

With pierced stone’s hurt in me

I bang against stone everywhere

Search the world in bended knee

To quench with a drop, from somewhere

 

The invalid convalesces

Tries walking, never lets go the prop

The stony docs and nurses

Snatch it, let it drop

 

So, Ma, my head sees you

Behind all these stony facades

May my bruised heart too

Burst these blinding blockades

 

2/7/2002 for 1/7/2002; Direct into computer; 1.18 p.m.

16.  Rise is the last word

 

I am an Advaitin

I am taught that God is in every one

I see God in all directions

All my dealings are worshipful motions

 

I bumble along in love with God

I am not humble, I confront God

Unity I sense vaguely now

Never mind, not far, the all know-how

The dream ’ll break in a minute or day

Break it must, so all scriptures say

 

Easy words under good breeze, no headache

So be it, let armchair, sad broodings break

In my chair, on my feet, I’ll practice

A thousand falls, the last word is, rise

 

My friend is God, foe a frightful mask

I frighten at `boo’ but to rise is my task

My friend doesn’t part, It’s God eternal

Infinity covers all loves ephemeral

 

Who am I ? My weakness a myth

It’s a disease, this, my fearing death

There is a catch in my strange situation

Never mind falls, to rise is my vocation

 

A game thou playest with me

But thy clues : Eternal love and service free

I may stumble, but rise I will

Rise is the only word in my bible

 

I’m `die-game’ for thee

Thou high and mighty

I’m not to be slighted, I, thy play mate

Lose pawns I may, but it’s I who says `check mate’

 

3/7/2002 for 2/7/2002; 12.32 a.m. Direct into computer

36. Kitty

 

Kitty mews softly

Mom-cat places it on master’s bed

Kitty sleeps soundly

Next mom puts it in an empty shed

 

Some are kitty and God their Mommy cat

She knows which’s the safest place

Their task just to mew and that

ll bring Her to them and with Her peace

 

Some are born monkey

They clutch hard their mother

As she leaps from tree to tree

Risks great to fall down to worlds nether

 

Repeated births as monkey

Bring the kitty out of the monkey

 

 

 

3/7/2002; 1.04 a.m. Direct into computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

37.  Smoke

 

This smokescreen makes

The greatest lie of the Greatest Truth

Makes white into black

White is the all, black is nil

The All become nothing

But black really reflect on the other side

It absorbs all and shows all but on the reverse

We need to pierce this screen

To see it as All from behind

Or pray for the screen to reveal

 

My Black Mother plays a game

Seek the All in Her, She is two-in-one

All and Nil, White and Black

Are Her twin facets, front and back

 

4/7/2002; 7.58 p.m. Direct into computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

17.  Tree

 

The tree stood solid, vast before me

A branch hung low, teasing me

Daring me to have a tug at it

I pulled playfully and that act

Started a whole chain

The branch coiled in

Like an elephant’s proboscis

It disappeared, my heart gave a miss

The branch went first, next the tree

In it’s place, a huge vibrating energy

 

It shook me, I woke up in wonder

At the vision I’ve been under

Under an interlinked canopy of power we live

More than this to see I squint and strive

 

 

6/7/2002 for 5/04/2002; 9.o4 a.m.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

18.  Scolding

 

Scoldings, just, unjust, all sorts

Have inured my skin, made it thick

I am the favourite whipping horse

Of  all folks, small and big

They think they can take it on me

All their pent up steamy excrescence

Nobody cares to hear me

If at all, they do with condescendence

I am everybody’s punching bag

Favoured punch for their laughs

I can’t afford to explode, so I’m tame and slack

Worst of all, my adopted philosoph

Holds me responsible in every aspect

Oh, for a healthy ounce of rage, fight and self-respect !

 

6/7/2002; Direct into computer; 7.29 p.m.


1/2003 

 

38. The Yatcht

 

The grand old yatcht merrily cruises

Full regalia, glossy painted colours

The captain puts up a gallant face

Acts with flair, winning talk, all ace

But, oh, the gay ship leaks out and in

Oil oozes out, water seeps incessantly in

Peril ahead, beware, skipper Mind !

Glibness, brinksmanship `s better left behind

You’ve ridden too may ladders high

May be the gaping python mouth ’s nearby

Plug the holes, out with cloying worldliness

Out the noxious slicks of sense pleasures

Shut the seepage of soapy emotion

Plug into the Whole that sets all in motion !

 

23/4/2003

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

39. The Wise Farmer

 

Once, there lived a peasant couple with a son

Haru, they fondly called him, their only one

Long awaited child, they loved him dearly

Did the best for him. All he wished for, had he.

The father, a pious man, head held high

Respected by all lived he. Days went by.

Gained wisdom as he mused while he tilled day long

Mother with her son, fussing all along

One fine morn, the farmer woke up musing

Found his only son ill and dying

Brought the best doctors, did all that he could

The boy died but no tears did he shed

Grieving mother grieved the more seeing him

Unmoved. ‘Your only son, young, full of vim,                     14

 

Fate struck him but you grieve not, cry not !

Heartless you are, a stone ‘s what you’ve got !’

The gentle farmer replied, ‘Hear my dear,

I am puzzled for whom to shed my tear

In the early morn I ruled a rich kingdom

Had six strapping princely sons with wisdom

And valour to win the world twice over

Then woke up to find them gone for ever                               22

 

Now tell me dear, whom should I cry for ?

My Haru or those sons valorous in War ?

This a dream ? That true ? Or the real is beyond, far ?’          25

 

Truth flashed on her too. Dim brooding she quit.

Life with scenes of waking and dream is but

Tip of the living force solid and spread out.                            28

 

21/05/2003

 

 

 

 

 

19. The Evening College Hostel

 

Could it ever go away from him ?

Our hostel mirrored him.

And that was its doing and undoing.

The hostel as we saw it !

That should make a good story

The hostel as we boys experienced

Was very much himself

How we relish to remember his boring talks !

How sweet his rare short talks !

How dear his hellos and scowls !

How with tact, we could play with his moods

We recall fondly how we fooled him

But he perhaps let us think we fooled him

It was fun doing things for him.

It was fun watching a line of ants carrying their eggs or grub

It was fun wearily waiting for reluctant Narikoravas to turn up.

It was fun translating something into Badaga.

It was fun because it was all for him.

And the most fun was dragging others into his deadly boringness.

It was all fun how he bored into us

Something of God,  Truth and Goodness.

He bored himself into us.

We sure miss him

And hope he misses us too.

But of that we are not sure

For he will find somebody else to bore

Somewhere.

But we dare not hope to find such a bore again.

26/7/2003


40. Carrion Fly and Honey bee

 

It was born in death, it fed on death

Gorged on over the length and breadth

Of that huge breathless body

And flourished on putrid mortality

It’s suckers knew well their business end

Hurrying a helpless body to its end

 

A bumble bee on it’s nectarine way

Stopped a bit. Had something to say

The fly had no time, its little mouth too busy

The bee went away sighing in pity

Something stirred within the fly

It mused, ‘that bee, weirdo, just passes by

A welcome table, red meat ripped open

Where does it go, to other food, better even ?              14

 

But the taste, sights and smells of blood

Soon the flea’s all senses drugged

It ate and slept and found it’s mate

All world’s flesh could never satiate

Amidst it’s fool life all dead and dull

It thought of the bee for a moment still

 

It looked up, sure the bee was there again

This time the fly followed in its train

As it flew it felt it’s proboscis growing 

Glided along, sat on a lotus flowering                       24

 

I’m that flea, it hit hard, I blinked

Crash. I woke. Everything clicked                               26

 

I’m on the look out for those rare honey bees

Sure will come my way, though, may be away seven seas.       28

 

17/8/2003

 

 

 

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