Hey, some of my poetry has been published on Muse India, here recently. Check it out!
Prolonged Existences
I have looked in the mirror
And have found you, not me.
I have felt disgusted.
Can I change this smile,
this grin,
these tears and be free?
You pervade my life
In spite of my conscious rejections.
Your prolonged existence is choking me.
--It stagnates all my efforts, stunts my movements.
You cry at all this,
But you don’t realize that the male,
malicious contents that prolongedly exist
in your and my relations,
in your body and mine,
are forcing us both...
into looking into the mirror often
and crying .
And how often have I lost you thus...!
I have looked in the mirror
And have found you, not me.
I have felt disgusted.
Can I change this smile,
this grin,
these tears and be free?
You pervade my life
In spite of my conscious rejections.
Your prolonged existence is choking me.
--It stagnates all my efforts, stunts my movements.
You cry at all this,
But you don’t realize that the male,
malicious contents that prolongedly exist
in your and my relations,
in your body and mine,
are forcing us both...
into looking into the mirror often
and crying .
And how often have I lost you thus...!
Untitled
Dumped Mr. X, I said to Prof. S, who had shown a mild interest in my life and learning earlier.
"It must have been hard for you" said she AND she bit her lip. (Professors try not to comment unless on papers submitted).
No matter what I did! It was never enough! I could not have done more for another person! Giving all my skills so wholly! The person remains unhappy! Ungrateful! Turns around and does some evil! (At that time, I did not even know about the real evil Mr. Fucked-up X had done).
The landing of the stairs to the Seminar Hall, and that is all I could say.
Even so, all it takes to move on (not from Seminars Hall), from such Mr. E(X)es is that one passing person.
A fleeting look in their eye: we know the kind of hell he CAN give.
Or one friend who said, "Such lies, I shivered." Or one girl: "The twisted reasons he makes up for common-enough things! Arghhhh, not funny!"
So, yo girl (no girl in particular and all of you out there).
Put THYSELF first.
Just now, Just ALWAYS and Just forever.
The clear red-bold-sign of Mr. Evil disguised as Mr. X is one day of missing work.
Precisely. Nothing more, nothing less.
Dumped Mr. X, I said to Prof. S, who had shown a mild interest in my life and learning earlier.
"It must have been hard for you" said she AND she bit her lip. (Professors try not to comment unless on papers submitted).
No matter what I did! It was never enough! I could not have done more for another person! Giving all my skills so wholly! The person remains unhappy! Ungrateful! Turns around and does some evil! (At that time, I did not even know about the real evil Mr. Fucked-up X had done).
The landing of the stairs to the Seminar Hall, and that is all I could say.
Even so, all it takes to move on (not from Seminars Hall), from such Mr. E(X)es is that one passing person.
A fleeting look in their eye: we know the kind of hell he CAN give.
Or one friend who said, "Such lies, I shivered." Or one girl: "The twisted reasons he makes up for common-enough things! Arghhhh, not funny!"
So, yo girl (no girl in particular and all of you out there).
Put THYSELF first.
Just now, Just ALWAYS and Just forever.
The clear red-bold-sign of Mr. Evil disguised as Mr. X is one day of missing work.
Precisely. Nothing more, nothing less.
Untitled
Fools say the spine is within
And needs tending and bending.
Mine is without,
in front of me.
Clearer than the sky,
held up by breath, man, not muscle or bone.
Seeing my spine and its emptiness,
for years, my body floated about as a layer of vibrations.
Thoughts appeared as dark clouds on a clear noon
until I hated thinking. Thoughts muddy waters, speech even more.
Concentration was not for thinking but for breathing
deep, long and constant.
Then skipping a breath without knowing.
The skipped spaces were life. All else boring.
Know this, man,
I was with me, happy.
Was I alone...the question did not occur to my mind. But then, there was no mind
even when just some of my worldly needs were met. Actually, I had nothing.
Fools say the spine is within
And needs tending and bending.
Mine is without,
in front of me.
Clearer than the sky,
held up by breath, man, not muscle or bone.
Seeing my spine and its emptiness,
for years, my body floated about as a layer of vibrations.
Thoughts appeared as dark clouds on a clear noon
until I hated thinking. Thoughts muddy waters, speech even more.
Concentration was not for thinking but for breathing
deep, long and constant.
Then skipping a breath without knowing.
The skipped spaces were life. All else boring.
Know this, man,
I was with me, happy.
Was I alone...the question did not occur to my mind. But then, there was no mind
even when just some of my worldly needs were met. Actually, I had nothing.
Untitled
This, here, today
Know, that
there is nothing
to
love or hate
I am weary of relationships,
just give me at last
whatever you see
as justice
This, here, today
Know, that
there is nothing
to
love or hate
I am weary of relationships,
just give me at last
whatever you see
as justice
Roses
Once upon time, I stared into a rose.
Its layers each leading elsewhere,
Until my eyes grew wide.
I stared more and I opened up,
felt it so and withdrew in fear.
I had no one then.
Except for a sibling who tried the same,
Felt the same.
A rose is a rose is a rose,
Yes, but this is not about Stein.
Not life as in a bed of roses (to all others, it was this).
Not even like my love (which indeed) is like a red red rose.
Nobody taught me it,
I knew it all by myself.
It was the natural course. Not any grandeur, no violence.
Burden sometimes.
(Like the time I banged the top of my head into a door knob and bled, unable to bear its tingling)
I discovered it as a method years later in Osho: A confirmation, a re-cognition.
What more, what else, who knows!
Yeah yeah, I have tread the path and so so...
I am an old soul, a little lost though.
And since life was not a bed of roses
I only tell myself this now: I need to smell the roses; smile more, live more.
A last and sad and limiting reference.
At least for now.
Its layers each leading elsewhere,
Until my eyes grew wide.
I stared more and I opened up,
felt it so and withdrew in fear.
I had no one then.
Except for a sibling who tried the same,
Felt the same.
A rose is a rose is a rose,
Yes, but this is not about Stein.
Not life as in a bed of roses (to all others, it was this).
Not even like my love (which indeed) is like a red red rose.
Nobody taught me it,
I knew it all by myself.
It was the natural course. Not any grandeur, no violence.
Burden sometimes.
(Like the time I banged the top of my head into a door knob and bled, unable to bear its tingling)
I discovered it as a method years later in Osho: A confirmation, a re-cognition.
What more, what else, who knows!
Yeah yeah, I have tread the path and so so...
I am an old soul, a little lost though.
And since life was not a bed of roses
I only tell myself this now: I need to smell the roses; smile more, live more.
A last and sad and limiting reference.
At least for now.
Soulmate
I dream so much nowadays...
And I don't quite know why,
but you are part of them
Refusal, resistance, irritation...
And yet,
you are part of
every dream
--even those I am yet to dream up!
You listen with me, weep,
read, write, pray
Sing that song just as I would
You sit in meditation facing me
Breath as deep as mine,
only your smile lovelier
Refusal, resistance, irritation...
But I know
that you are the one
---my soulmate.
And I don't quite know why,
but you are part of them
Refusal, resistance, irritation...
And yet,
you are part of
every dream
--even those I am yet to dream up!
You listen with me, weep,
read, write, pray
Sing that song just as I would
You sit in meditation facing me
Breath as deep as mine,
only your smile lovelier
Refusal, resistance, irritation...
But I know
that you are the one
---my soulmate.
Prayers
A younger cousin and I were talking
And as happens with not many others
Conversation turned to the nature of life and world.
I wanted to say “The world is an ungrateful place”; “Love is fragile”; “There is nothing like unconditional love” and “Be forgiving”.
But I turned away, I stopped short.
I could not say all that.
I instead said a prayer, in secret
For him…
And as happens with not many others
Conversation turned to the nature of life and world.
I wanted to say “The world is an ungrateful place”; “Love is fragile”; “There is nothing like unconditional love” and “Be forgiving”.
But I turned away, I stopped short.
I could not say all that.
I instead said a prayer, in secret
For him…
A Man Called P
P was a great guy. The care he showed to his grandmother showed that he was a loving guy. The girl who marries him was a lucky one, I thought to myself. "Jesus Christ", he would say every now and then, I carried that habit with me to India, and curse myself upon saying it.
P's parents were separated. I looked closely at him, to see if it had scarred him. Nah, he said. And you? He asked. "I too was like you for many many years, until it got to me." He shook his head in disapproval of me.
I spoke of my research and told him it was about enlightenment. We began to say something about Meditation together. That was the smiley moment in the chat. But then gave me what was the most cynical expression his face could ever conjure up, saying "it leads nowhere". I smiled. I wished some Buddhist or Zen techniques helped us connect things and take off from Patanjali Yoga. That would do so many people good.
6 years or so ago, my brother and I would have given that same cynical look to anyone seeming to be championing Meditation. We had read, we had tried. The path did not take us anywhere. We had then believed more in ourselves, in hard work and in carrying ourselves gracefully. But its time to read up and try all over again, I think.
P thought of his work, was strong, kept time, and tried hard to work in a relaxed way.
Alas, dear innocent P, there are lots of short-spanned things on this earth; and we could have definitely talked more over those couple of weeks!
P's parents were separated. I looked closely at him, to see if it had scarred him. Nah, he said. And you? He asked. "I too was like you for many many years, until it got to me." He shook his head in disapproval of me.
I spoke of my research and told him it was about enlightenment. We began to say something about Meditation together. That was the smiley moment in the chat. But then gave me what was the most cynical expression his face could ever conjure up, saying "it leads nowhere". I smiled. I wished some Buddhist or Zen techniques helped us connect things and take off from Patanjali Yoga. That would do so many people good.
6 years or so ago, my brother and I would have given that same cynical look to anyone seeming to be championing Meditation. We had read, we had tried. The path did not take us anywhere. We had then believed more in ourselves, in hard work and in carrying ourselves gracefully. But its time to read up and try all over again, I think.
P thought of his work, was strong, kept time, and tried hard to work in a relaxed way.
Alas, dear innocent P, there are lots of short-spanned things on this earth; and we could have definitely talked more over those couple of weeks!
Fiery
My love is fiery and has to fizzle out
where is the lover who is as fiery as me?
where is he who loves like has never loved ever?
When I find such a man, my fiery love will last
and will not ask to fizzle out.
where is the lover who is as fiery as me?
where is he who loves like has never loved ever?
When I find such a man, my fiery love will last
and will not ask to fizzle out.
Between You and Me
What is it that brings us together
Again and again,
No matter how much we fight, differ and be similar.
It is not love, for there was no love ever
only unsuccessful attempts
At self-hypnotic assurances,
only psychological strategies, oh whatever!
And not even compassion or sympathy.
Have we asked ourselves,
Of the difference or loss or gains
That we would bring to each other.
Between you and me
We have only shared a few sentences.
The sentences? They were not special or anything...
Like the eternal, immortal, precious, ‘I love you’
They just were there…this and that, hi and hello!
And I wonder at how
We both together, make it our task to reinterpret,
rewrite and make corrections in the grammar and
structure of those few clusters of words.
And we have gone on for so long, without satisfaction or benefit. Arghhh.
Again and again,
No matter how much we fight, differ and be similar.
It is not love, for there was no love ever
only unsuccessful attempts
At self-hypnotic assurances,
only psychological strategies, oh whatever!
And not even compassion or sympathy.
Have we asked ourselves,
Of the difference or loss or gains
That we would bring to each other.
Between you and me
We have only shared a few sentences.
The sentences? They were not special or anything...
Like the eternal, immortal, precious, ‘I love you’
They just were there…this and that, hi and hello!
And I wonder at how
We both together, make it our task to reinterpret,
rewrite and make corrections in the grammar and
structure of those few clusters of words.
And we have gone on for so long, without satisfaction or benefit. Arghhh.
Unbecoming
Why is it that I am hell-bent on hurting you?
that mention of an old-flame, half-said and all, and so much undone...
could it be that "that I don't want to be like my mom" thing?
will I lose my life in the midst of us both? (Anxiety, Insecurity--the words you so hate.)
could it be some envy that, finally, you get to have me
while I know I deserve an endless ocean of love,
and feel that no one actually deserves me! (Proud peacock...hmm, maybe, maybe not!)
I don't know of someone who didn't love or adore me
I don't know of rejection, except from the envious
I didn't say "leave" to anybody, never walked away
I brought back those that left, and forgave those that didn't return
What I ask for, even as I submit to you,
is the love that I once knew...(I am serious now.)
I might have lost it time and again,
But that unearthly love, that blissful thing, that was truly unconditional.
there was such a thing...and it was given to me by the gods themselves
But how or why do I expect you, to give that, to me?
The best of wo(men)didn't find it!
My dearest love, see, its not me, its not the lack of love.
It is...the realization that being here
and being this way is unbecoming...
within this body,
with its pleasures and sorrows...
the incoming breath and the outgoing breath
--sudden meanings and dark monotony.
Will you forgive my tantrums and embrace
this realization of mine?
Will you try loving me?
And love me as the gods might have loved...
Will you soothe my pain and hold me tight?
So that I can love you as I love my gods...
that mention of an old-flame, half-said and all, and so much undone...
could it be that "that I don't want to be like my mom" thing?
will I lose my life in the midst of us both? (Anxiety, Insecurity--the words you so hate.)
could it be some envy that, finally, you get to have me
while I know I deserve an endless ocean of love,
and feel that no one actually deserves me! (Proud peacock...hmm, maybe, maybe not!)
I don't know of someone who didn't love or adore me
I don't know of rejection, except from the envious
I didn't say "leave" to anybody, never walked away
I brought back those that left, and forgave those that didn't return
What I ask for, even as I submit to you,
is the love that I once knew...(I am serious now.)
I might have lost it time and again,
But that unearthly love, that blissful thing, that was truly unconditional.
there was such a thing...and it was given to me by the gods themselves
But how or why do I expect you, to give that, to me?
The best of wo(men)didn't find it!
My dearest love, see, its not me, its not the lack of love.
It is...the realization that being here
and being this way is unbecoming...
within this body,
with its pleasures and sorrows...
the incoming breath and the outgoing breath
--sudden meanings and dark monotony.
Will you forgive my tantrums and embrace
this realization of mine?
Will you try loving me?
And love me as the gods might have loved...
Will you soothe my pain and hold me tight?
So that I can love you as I love my gods...
The word love comes easy
I am an Eng lit student
And the word 'love' comes more easily to me than it does to others,
er...I suppose...
But I love you just as anyone would.
...As much as anyone could.
And the word 'love' comes more easily to me than it does to others,
er...I suppose...
But I love you just as anyone would.
...As much as anyone could.
Untitled
I knew a girl once
who had loved in vain.
She didn't know that, of course
for all the 2 years she uttered her love's name, awake, asleep. Like crazy.
The man thought of her as home
But also as a pastime. He seemed to have too much of everything anyway.
The breakup was so hurtful--
throttling tears, stunted vision.
Could love, pure and beautiful,
do this?
Unlike hate, regret, devastation, pain.
Not one thing, not nothing.
Just lots of weight, she couldn't stand straight, sane.
Her thoughts went wild, mind ballistic, blurring.
Then one evening, she sat down.
(the pull of tradition! an ancestors' compassion! who knows!)
She held a book and pen
And wrote Rama's name.
Never looking up, never thinking a thought.
2 pages washed her feelings, she was born again.
I saw this with my own eyes, so rest assured. Here goes it.
Sit with spine erect, on a mat, book on right lap.
Hold book lightly with your left hand, do not press down.
Write neatly in devanagari, don't strike the letters on top, don't mark the vertical full stop.
Once written, don't seek to change,
Don’t go back on the letters even if a mistake is seen.
Reserve a pen just for this.
Don’t smile, don’t speak.
You will know a peace, a transformation.
And gain the calm you so so seek.
I knew a girl once
who had loved in vain.
She didn't know that, of course
for all the 2 years she uttered her love's name, awake, asleep. Like crazy.
The man thought of her as home
But also as a pastime. He seemed to have too much of everything anyway.
The breakup was so hurtful--
throttling tears, stunted vision.
Could love, pure and beautiful,
do this?
Unlike hate, regret, devastation, pain.
Not one thing, not nothing.
Just lots of weight, she couldn't stand straight, sane.
Her thoughts went wild, mind ballistic, blurring.
Then one evening, she sat down.
(the pull of tradition! an ancestors' compassion! who knows!)
She held a book and pen
And wrote Rama's name.
Never looking up, never thinking a thought.
2 pages washed her feelings, she was born again.
I saw this with my own eyes, so rest assured. Here goes it.
Sit with spine erect, on a mat, book on right lap.
Hold book lightly with your left hand, do not press down.
Write neatly in devanagari, don't strike the letters on top, don't mark the vertical full stop.
Once written, don't seek to change,
Don’t go back on the letters even if a mistake is seen.
Reserve a pen just for this.
Don’t smile, don’t speak.
You will know a peace, a transformation.
And gain the calm you so so seek.
The angels have stopped whispering
The good thing about losing you
is that the angels have stopped whispering.
I was driven crazy by their caution, so I threw it to the wind
and quested for a lover
...since the angels anyway whispered you would not be kind.
Quests gone awry, much lost
and found,
The point lay somewhere else.
I just had to encounter you. Thats it!
And lose you never having gained!
I get it all now, though.
But I don't think you noticed
So I have to tell you:
I made my life worthy.
In the time that Karma waited for me to meet you
and you to reject me
I had made my life so beautiful (I had dedicated it to others),
you didn't matter anymore. No one person did.
Now, the event has passed.
Karma has changed.
And I start all afresh.
The angels have stopped whispering
I throw caution to the winds...because
I won!
is that the angels have stopped whispering.
I was driven crazy by their caution, so I threw it to the wind
and quested for a lover
...since the angels anyway whispered you would not be kind.
Quests gone awry, much lost
and found,
The point lay somewhere else.
I just had to encounter you. Thats it!
And lose you never having gained!
I get it all now, though.
But I don't think you noticed
So I have to tell you:
I made my life worthy.
In the time that Karma waited for me to meet you
and you to reject me
I had made my life so beautiful (I had dedicated it to others),
you didn't matter anymore. No one person did.
Now, the event has passed.
Karma has changed.
And I start all afresh.
The angels have stopped whispering
I throw caution to the winds...because
I won!
Lighting Lamps
I was going to light lamps
But it did not feel like that.
The cotton wicks clung like lovers.
It pained to tear them apart.
They came in threes or fives;
they were not couples.
I had to choose two,
reshape them a little, soak and drown them in oil
and light them.
So they could burn...
like lovers.
I was going to light lamps
But it did not feel like that.
The cotton wicks clung like lovers.
It pained to tear them apart.
They came in threes or fives;
they were not couples.
I had to choose two,
reshape them a little, soak and drown them in oil
and light them.
So they could burn...
like lovers.
