Thursday, February 20, 2025

FRAGMENTS : 2



Far Away, Far Far Away

Far Away from Earth

Far Away from our Sun (psst: which, actually, is a Star - lol)

Far Away from our Galaxy

Far Away into the Yonder

Where no light can peep into the deepest Soul of Darkness

Where molten Mercury keeps afloat continents of brawn

With Rivers of Lead criss-crossing their putrid vastness

Still, Still only as Still can be

Where Time is lost in endless Waiting

(Where Day is actually Night, and Night remains Night - lol)

Where even the wrathful Eye of the One (the Master Puppeteer he is) cannot Fall

Without Creation and so Without Destruction

Without beginning and so Without End

In that Immensity

Oh, Imagination

You are, and so, the Universe is.

FRAGMENTS 1.

 



1. 

You walk in to the Inferno 

And walk out a toasted soul, devoid of flesh

You drown in an ancient sea 

And walk out a bloated body, devoid of soul 


2. 

Love and longing 

A fish cast on the sands 

Futile twitches that take you nowhere 

 

3. 

Memory and Forgetfulness


By the banks of Lethe 

Watching 

Wave after wave 

Wash over the mossy stone 

Turning it to pure black void 

 

4. 

When the struggling song leaves the soul,

Unsung, unheard 

What is left is bliss

 

The sheer joy of existence 

Pure, animal like being 

The human transcends to be the spirit...

 

***

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Wisdom



“Desire,” said the Buddha, looking deep into his navel, “is the root of all sorrow.” Bind me with a thousand fetters of love, said the bearded bard from Bengal.

Where does one find happiness? What indeed is happiness? Being in harmony with ourselves? Being in harmony with the immediate world of our life? Everyone has a different scale for happiness. What matters to one is insignificant to the other.

Watch a tender leaf come alive with the first ray of the sun on it. Hear the contained murmur of the stream underneath. Watch a contented bird rest after the day’s meal has been taken. Know the post coital nonchalance of a baboon. Indulge in the deep blue moonshine. Open up every orifice to let in the world deep into the being.

Life is to be lived. Do not carry it on your head.

***


 

when God came travelling with a lunch box

 



there was a time in my life when i was a teacher. my becoming was more accidental than intentional. and since i had never intended to be a teacher, i didn’t possess the most essential of degrees – a Bachelors in Education. not that a degree would make anyone a better teacher. 


so, after drifting around, i decided to get a ‘distant’ degree. and Annamalai in Chidambaram was the most apt of places to get it. 


during the year of my course, i had to be there for around 10 days, for a contact class session. more than the classes, what i remembered was my saunters along the streets of Chidambaram, as well as the temple around which the town seems to have been built. 


the temples of Tamilnadu awe you with their magnificence.    


after staying for the mandatory days, it was time to pack up. 
and i got into the general unreserved compartment of a train to Trichy, from where i was supposed to continue my journey to the school in Karnataka where i worked. 


it was a small compartment, with just a few bench like seats that were largely unoccupied. apart from me there was a person, a casual worker in his uniform, who was obviously going to his work place. and another man who had been in the train when we boarded. 


it was then a woman crawled in. she was so skinny you wondered if she were just bones. and, if you will forgive the expression, she was very dirty. she was dressed in tatters that were worn out thin. and she was cursing everyone she could lay her eyes on, in the compartment, outside..


she’s mad, whispered the man who had been in the compartment before me, moving a little more farther.


then something happened. the worker got up from his seat, took out the lunch box he had been carrying, opened it, and placed it before the ranting woman – all without a word.


the light that shone in the woman’s eye at that moment was indescribable. she grabbed the lunch box that was laid out before and started gobbling it up as if she had never eaten anything all her life. 


after finishing off, she just left the lunch box there and moved to another corner and huddled up. she had stopped her rant.


and the man who had given her the only lunch he might have had on that day, collected the lunch box without any special ex-pression, washed it clean, and tucked it back in his bag and resumed his watch by the window seat.


the train had started moving, the temple town was receding, and the green shady fields spread out like a canvas outside. 


i felt a glow pervade the compartment, and life was not what it was when i had boarded the compartment.

***


what are you, my dear

 


what are you, my dear?
a dream i dream up 
to keep myself afloat?
a shadow i relentlessly follow
seeking my own substance?
my pain, my balm

what are you, my dear?
an illusion of reality? or
a real illusion?
a mirage
tempting me to the very end
of the horizon?
my sorrow, my bliss

now here, now there, nowhere
vanishing, disappearing in streaks
of blinding light
when the sight clears
darkness again

the mind
now aflame
now stilled and frozen
now gripping, now slipping
a never ending torment of chaos


a broken kite in flight…

***


waves of life

 


when was the last time you rode the waves of success?


rising to meet the stars with the cusp
the wind of adulation deafening the ear
blinding lights of the sun close in the eye 
like an Icarus, rising up.. up..

in a never ending high

to meet your destiny, up above the world…

 

alas, the sea waits at the fall end of the wave


arms adrift in the lazy haze of a brazen day
all knowing and seeing

a chuckle hidden in the depths of silence
where shoals of bright vibrant lives
swim about in their business of living


brief and intense
oblivious to the sunny spread above..

what has gone up should come down


it is good to know the landing place
before the skies dizzy you…

***


the singer thinks he is the song

 


there was this singer*. for three decades he reigned over his fiefdom, unparalleled, unchallenged. 

his voice was what animated the greatest heroes, lend them their heroics, romance, philosophy, politics and pathos. and he did justice to all. nobody grudged his position, because nobody felt it was undeserving. 


every tree has to shed its leaves, branches, glory. so came our singer’s time of wane. his voice was less heard. in fact voices ceased to matter, as machines took over. but the songs continued.


there grew a generation who didn’t know the singer. who did not pause for the burden of his song.
slowly oblivion crept in, and the singer became just another face embossed on antique collections. 


but the singer was very much alive, and missed his glory. his frequent reminders went unnoticed. and the agony of slipping into the sunset of memory unsung must have taunted his steely nerves.


the newspapers carried a small story of an aborted self termination bid. was its inconsequential nature that made a legend’s truncation attempts unworthy of news? or was it a consideration not to tarnish the past glory?

we should be graceful in exit. lime lights are not eternal. ripe fruits fall, and the younger ones take their place. the world keeps re inventing itself in endless cyclic repetitions. 


actors change, the act goes on. singers change, the song is endless.
trouble is when the singer starts believing that he is the song.

* on a legendary singer in the Tamil movie industry who allegedly tried to end his life. 

***