Gone?!

Gone are the good morning mornings and the good night nights. Each moment, a part of me dies and a part replaces it: trying to live.

Grrr...

Karta: I want to be inside Virupaksha cave right this moment. It is the only cocoon that protects me from the world. Protects the world from me.

Sakshi: What a deep level of attachment! Still have a long way to go...

Who am I: Who is observing the observer observing the observed?

Sound: Grrr...

Once more...

Sudden lovebursts and longings in every heartbeat I hide…
Yet, your deep, loving eyes won't say:
I'll stay.

Your deep, loving voice somehow careless of my heartbreak.
Yet, the broken heart whimpers, whispers, sighs and sings:
Our hindi love song.

Just love me...
At least, lie to me:
once more.

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Mein aur meri tanhayee;
Mein jaanu aur meri khuda jaane.

Koi khalish hain hawaon mein…

Flowers have been nipped in the bud. Just before they could bloom together.
However, these flowers shall bloom again. When the cold-hearted winter gives way to sunny spring and summer…

Interestingly, there is no pain this time.
Maybe it’s the realization that promises can be broken even before trying to keep them.
Maybe it’s Thiruvannamalai healing me from afar.
Maybe it’s my belief that God is in his heaven and all is well on earth.
Maybe the love went deeper than my sore and numb nerves.

The sun shall rise tomorrow and I shall not dwell in the dark tonight. Every dawn, I meditate facing the east awaiting my sunrise.

I pray to God everyday that I may never get Alzheimer’s. For I believe that I live in my memories. They, along with hope, keep me alive. They provide the courage to love once again.

Once again, a part of me has died. It shall resurrect though. For I shall be reborn; and so shall you.

In a song

We are two teardrops in a song. We'll flow with the music. But eventually, we will dry up somewhere near smiling lips.

Just like that

Woh joh kisi ne naa samjha
Woh mein; woh tum...

Woh humne humse hii jaana.

An umbrella story/ Two mornings/ Mornings

Yesterday morning, she came late; drenched to the bone. Aakash was waiting for the maid. He was getting late for work. It was already 8:30am.

“What happened? Why are you late? And wet?” asked Aakash. “I don’t have an umbrella; my daughter uses mine to go to college,” Sunita replied sheepishly. She started her daily routine of sweeping and mopping the floor.

Just before she was done with her work for the day, Aakash walked to his bedroom, took his umbrella from the table, folded it neatly, and gave it to her.

Sunita replied, “Thanks. I’ll return this tomorrow morning.” Aakash retorted nervously, “No; it’s for you to keep. It rains heavily nowadays. You’ll get sick if you get wet like this daily.”

Today morning, Sunita arrived at 7:30am sharp. Aakash noticed that she had an old and abused umbrella in her hand. She was soaking wet from the heavy rain outside. Obviously, this umbrella was of little help.

Aakash asked, “What happened to the umbrella I gave you yesterday?” Sunita (proceeding towards the broom) replied matter-of-factly, “I gave it to my son; he took it to school.”

Such is her love. Such is her life.

A tagged post

A friend recently blogged on Ameen Sayani. When I read this post, my trail of thoughts travelled to Binaca Geetmala, the most popular radio show in Indian history.

Then I remembered listening to radio stations at night because my mom was a big fan of music and songs. She primarily listened to old Malayalam songs but once in a while listened to Hindi songs as well.

I remember Ravi Mama coming home one evening, during those chawlwallah days, with new toothpastes that were out in the market then: Binaca and Cibaca. Light blue toothpastes. For the first time, I brushed my teeth with toothpastes that came in a color other than white!

A little boy back then, I had no idea about market wars. Binaca and Cibaca had threatened Colgate’s leadership and monopoly in the market back then. Now, we see Binaca and Cibaca written on cheap plastic toothbrushes that come free with Dabur Red toothpaste.

Such is life.

End of a dialogue

A child (looking out of a window): Wow! Look! The breeze is so cool; the raindrops spraying on my face is so refreshing.

An elder (peering into the morning newspaper): Close the window; the furniture will be spoilt.

The catalyst

Muse.

The very word is amusing. It lives in its own existence. A muse is to an artist what a catalyst is to a chemical reaction. Basically, what God is to creation or life. As Osho says: The catalyst does not cause any reaction or creation though without its presence nothing can be created; nothing happens.

The relationship between a muse and her artist is the most indefinable relationship.

My desktop wallpaper

An ash-clad face with simmering piercing eyes. Sun-dried and wind-beaten long tresses. Agni surrounds him. He stares at me from my desktop.

Who is he? What is his journey?

All I know is that he was at the last Kumbh Mela (where some photographer captured his fiery gaze). Maybe that is all we need to know about him.

kahin toh

Kahaan kho gayi mere ghar kii chaabi;
Kahaan khoye maine meri raah.

Kahaan jaaon ab taala dhoondne;
Chaabi se pehle taala jo kho gaya tha... Kabhi.

khoyi khoyi sii zindagi

Kuch kahin dur khoyi khoyi sii zindagi;
Kuch khayalaton mein basi sii zindagi.

Ab bahaaron mein baahar aayi sii zindagi;
Hasraton aur shararaton mein zindagi
Ab jeene lagi hain
Kuch kahin aur khoyi khoyi sii zindagi.

Random musings of workless days

I love reading what I had written earlier... just to not lose touch with my past. It is only through what I write that I can be in touch with my past. Be an observer and a witness.

I keep staring at my cell phone every once in a while: maybe I am expecting a call. From the birthdaydigitswallah number. Maybe I expect to make a call. To the birthdaydigitswallah number. But I am avoiding the calling… don’t know how. Don’t know why.

The decision is already made, I guess. – Dated: February 15, 2010

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Why do people take offence for subtle acts of kindness?

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Ab aisa lagta hain kii kuch karna nahin;
Dur kidhar jhaake rehna nahin.
Zindagi ne khud bulaya hain;
Ab jeene se pehle maut kii tamanna nahin.

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Existentialism is the only permanent philosophy in life; it never deserts you no matter what path you take.

My woman

My woman...

My goddess knows no fear:
She is Shakti standing on Shiva
Balancing her grace; balancing the world.

For if she falls, he shall be no more.
No more life; no more death.
No more what we know no more.

Unkept promises

The earth is scorched.
It is awaiting clouds that bring rain. Dark clouds are passing by. They are teasing the earth; they descend, hang low, and show promise of rain.
Maybe, they have no more vapours. Maybe, they are meant to rain elsewhere.

Sighs

A thousand sighs replace a thousand and eight names.
Untold, unspoken, unseen sighs. What should ‘I’ do?

Nothing more. No more.

A thulasi leaf

Sometimes the most important journeys in life are not begun by foot, by flight, or by sail. They start in the Heart.

Such journeys bring home new discoveries and visions. But more importantly they bring home truths; truths you seldom realized before.

Where is this journey taking me?

Yedh yedho kathayil Yamunayil oruganna
Uru thulasi dhalam aanu nyaan.

Friday the 18th

Love entered Shiva's being from a far, far away land somewhere in the east near the sea... Where the Sun rises. Where it should rise. Where it shall never set.

He outstretched his arms and welcomed this addiction called life... :-)) Now, he has to journey a thousand miles before he can sleep in peace.

Who am...

The only spiritual texts that exist: Yoga Vasistha Sara, Ashtavakra Gita, Tripura Rahasya, and the Upanishads.

Mahavaakyas such as Tat vam asi, Aham Brahmasmi, and the way of Neti, Neti. The way of “Not this, not this”. And the way of “Even this, even this” blend in these dialogues and statements.

Note: The great maxims contained in four Upanishads of the four Vedas describe Brahman as:

• Praajnam Brahman—Aitreya Upanishad of Rigveda, meaning “Intelligence or Consciousness is Brahman”.
• Aham Brahmaasmi—Brihadaaranyaka Upanishad of Yajurveda, meaning “I am Brahman”.
• Tat vam asi—Chandogya Upanishad of Saamaveda, meaning “That thou art”.
• Ayam aatma Brahman—Mandookya Upanishad of Atharvaveda, meaning “This Self or aatma is Brahman”.