Spirit, art and life unfolded

Do what makes you beam, never scream. For in those moments, your true self shines brightest. Let your passions and delights guide you, and your heart will radiate warmth and light, illuminating your path and inspiring others to do the same.

In a masterful display of subtlety, a spade-shaped leaf with a slender stem was transformed by whispers of orange and yellow paint, delicately blended with grey and white. This effortless collaboration between nature and artistry reminds us that sometimes, the most breathtaking creations require only the gentlest of touches.

In the Pink Allamanda's vibrant bloom, I find solace. Buds swell with potential, while one flower prepares to unfurl, set against the gentle backdrop of a colony and a tree that embodies the elegance of a classical dance. Though familiar, this sight never grows old, as each season brings a fresh perspective, beckoning me to lose myself in its tranquility.

My garden is home to various seasonal flowers, and every so often, something new emerges as a trailblazer. Recently, a beautiful peach-colored Hibiscus flower bloomed, stealing the spotlight. The flower is large, with ruffled petals that gently transition from a soft peach at the edges to a deeper pinkish-red at the center. The central stamen is striking, with bright yellow and red details adding to its charm. The flower is attached to a slender green stem, surrounded by lush foliage. A black butterfly with a yellow border and black dots briefly stopped by the flower, leaving me with a surge of delight, even though I had no time to capture the moment.

The long-awaited home, a recurring dream, A theme that haunts my imagination's scheme. I've lived in many houses, none truly mine, Nor did I belong to them, a fleeting sign. Nellore, where my parents dwelled, Left an indelible mark, a story to tell. Yet, even that connection now lost to time, Leaves me with a sense of disconnection's chime. Twenty years in a rented space, Still, a sense of belonging eludes my pace. I own a house, but occupation's denied, A paradox that fuels my heart's inside. Quo Vadis, I ask, where is this home I seek? A refrain that echoes, nothing's truly unique. Nothing belongs to me, nor I to it, Then what is this home, a final destination to hit? My poem explores the universal human quest for a sense of belonging and the elusive nature of "home." It's a thought-provoking reflection on identity, connection, and the search for a place to call one's own.

Quo Vadis  Leaps of technology, sweeping humans aside, Leave us barren, naked, a skeletal hide. I laugh at the joke, a hundred years from now, What will I look like? A haunting question somehow. Wars rage on, touted like never before, Each day, a rape, freedom and liberation, a cruel joke once more. We focus on nature, as if doomsday draws near, Forgetting the script, we're constantly unlearning, year by year. Let peace rest, let cruelty prevail, Let the monsters we've created take the reins, set sail. Goodbye, humanity, a poignant farewell, A species lost, in a world that's fallen to hell.

On a bustling road, a lengthy fence stands rugged, A diligent spider weaves its web, covering in places, Unmindful of the fence's fate, or the threat of its demise, The spider toils, its labor a testament to its fate. Such an expansive web, a marvel of its might, Could only be achieved through tireless day and night. Yet, does it work so hard to snare its prey with guile? Or perhaps it toils, to live awhile? In this whimsical world, strange lessons come to light, The spider's zeal teaches us to work through the night, Unmindful of tomorrow, we find our way, For in its unwavering dedication, we spin a world around each day.

This is a piece I created on May 31, 2024, on a wooden surface, where the natural texture of the wood adds a rustic and organic feel to the artwork. I used shades of yellow and black to create an abstract format. I leave it to the viewer to interpret and draw their eye to explore the various elements within the work. Through this piece, I wanted to blend the natural and abstract, leaving room for personal interpretation.

 Refusal to fade  Never want to die again, Leaving memories behind, like autumn's leaves to wane. Sever my bonds with life's lullabies, I cannot bear, Forsaking beauty, scents, kindness, and emotional stirrings that linger there. I refuse to lose the wonderful people, places, and happenings etched in my mind, The great teachings, notions that awakened my spiritual being, I hold in kind. I swear, I will not die, my spirit will not fade, For life's experiences, love, and lessons have made me who I am, and I will not be swayed.

Unheard cries A quiet roar, inaudible to all, Grows in intensity, boundless and tall. It shatters limits, proportions astray, A quiet roar that breaks the heart, yet blends with pride each day. It permeates every fiber, every part, Reverberations in silence, a gentle start. Cries merge and fuse, a harmonious refrain, Silence peaks and shrieks, yet quiet remains. A mighty river flows, serene and deep, A force that's felt, though silent, in its sweep.

The scene is indeed poignant and evocative. A lifeless butterfly, once vibrant and full of life, is now the focus of many ants working together to carry it away. The butterfly's delicate wings, despite its state, continue to move slightly, opening and closing with the occasional gust of wind. This subtle movement contrasts with the stillness of its body, highlighting the fleeting nature of life. The beauty of the butterfly, with its intricate and colorful wings, remains evident, even in its current state. The clarity of its body, distinct from the wings, adds to the somber atmosphere. The gentle flutters caused by the wind evoke a sense of lingering vitality, making the scene both melancholic and reflective of the ephemeral beauty in nature. The insect's body, stark and distinct from its wings, lies naked and lifeless, its stillness evoking a sense of desolation. Its once-vibrant form now limp and warm, like a fragile life extinguished, leaving only a haunting memory.

 River of self I am not trash, nor rubbish too, Not wealth or treasure, nor a melody anew. Not just a breath or a heartbeat's pace, I am the river, flowing to my sacred space. I cover hills, dales, and terrains tough, Merging, slowing, disappearing in the ocean's enough. To be what I have always been, Free, wild, and one with the sea again.

I painted this eye on a stone as part of my exploration into the depths of the soul. It reflects my attempt to look inward and understand the essence of being.

  Metal grid reborn. A testament to transforming waste into abstract art, where value meets creativity. 

I drift apart, I struggle to reclaim my wholeness. Am I one or many? The centrifugal forces of life seem to fragment me, threatening to shatter my essence into countless pieces. Yet, I yearn to integrate, to reunite with my true self. The pool of my soul is overflowing with tears, emotions, turmoil, and provocations, punctuated by moments of cessation and termination. To navigate this tumultuous landscape, I must summon immense strength and resilience. I must cultivate the discernment to distinguish essence from excess, allowing only the vital to remain. Amidst the tumult of diverse forces, I grapple with the paradox of rejecting impermanence while clinging to the transitory. My dessiderata, those deeply desired and cherished aspirations, are at war with the unwanted and the mundane, leading to a maze of miscalculations. Amorphous forms emerge, reflecting the turmoil within. Is this yearning or mere craving? I seek clarity in the midst of chaos. What do I truly need? Not fleeting comfo

The painted stone showcases my abstract vision, with a striking eye taking centre stage, symbolising the fusion of natural forms and human emotion. By seamlessly merging organic elements with expressive brushstrokes, I aimed to transform a humble stone into a thought-provoking piece, inviting viewers to ponder the intricate dance between nature and human experience.

Harmony through Contrasting Elements This theme is conveyed through the combination of: - Vibrant, bold colours - Uniquely shaped, concentric patterns - Expressive, swirling brushstrokes - Contrasting textures (smooth colours vs. rough brushstrokes) - Structural intrigue (ladder-like markings) Attempted a balance between opposing forces, creating a visually appealing and thought-provoking piece that invites exploration and interpretation.

Perched atop a replanted tree stump, a solitary bird stood motionless, its silhouette stark against the serene light blue sky. As I hastened to capture the moment on my phone, the bird seemed frozen in time, a tranquil figure amidst the stillness. The atmosphere around the lake was one of profound solitude and peace, the only hint of movement coming from the clouds, which appeared to be gently descending with impending rain. The scene was a fleeting moment of calm, a snapshot of serenity.

A calm, blue sky with soft, wispy clouds. On the left side, there are some subtle streaks within the clouds, likely formed by sunlight filtering through. In the lower right corner, a small bird is perched on the top of a tree stump or branch, silhouetted against the sky. The scene captures a peaceful moment in nature, with the bird standing out against the serene background.

  Good morning! Today's Tuesday tale is one of transformation - from gentle morning rain to a radiant sunny sky. Nature's moods are as ephemeral as they are captivating. Let us embrace the delight of cooling showers and warm sunlight, finding joy in life's unpredictable harmony. Yet, elsewhere, heavy rains prevail, while our region experiences only light showers, barely replenishing groundwater aquifers. The days are hot and humid, and often the nights too, a reminder of the delicate balance of our ecosystem.

The ladle has been creatively repurposed as a sign, with the words "Keep Smiling" written on its yellow-painted surface. It's fixed into a terracotta pot, supported by a wooden stand. Below the ladle, there is a plant with variegated, striped leaves, and above it, a larger plant with broad, glossy green leaves, creating a layered and visually appealing display. This setup not only adds a touch of greenery but also spreads a positive message. I have shared this lovely setup before, but its fresh appearance is so inviting that it’s easy to see why i wanted to share it again. The combination of the plants and the uplifting message makes it a charming and inspiring sight! Magically the weather changed, sultry to soothing drizzle.

Good morning.  As morning's rays shatter the darkness, illuminating my mind and paving the way for a new day, I'm stirred awake. A divine melody ensues, cleansing my soul of impurities and ushering me into a joyful journey, filled with promise and possibility.

The Alamanda bush sprawls luxuriantly, occupying a stretch of wall with its entwined green and brown creepers. The brown stems grow wild and free, while the green tendrils seek new spaces to explore. The majestic Gulmohar tree's branches stretch down, sheltering some of the Alamanda's delicate twines. A slender vine arises from the bush, elegantly arching over the Gulmohar's branch before swooping down, adorned with a few tender leaves and a single, proud flower. Nearby, another flower blooms from a sturdy stem, adding to the beauty of the scene. This enchanting tableau, replaying itself with each passing day, beckons me to repeat my poetic tributes to the Alamanda, as its yellow glory continues to flourish, undiminished.

Nature's layers captured in art: A pebble painted to resemble the inner world of a seed.

A lone yellow leaf with white edges lies on a broken granite fragment, its fragile beauty juxtaposed with the sturdy stone. The phrase c' whispers a message of hope and resilience, reminding us to find peace in life's ephemeral moments.

In the garden, a vibrant green, round Calabash - or Sorrakaya, as we affectionately call it - hangs gracefully from its vine. Its smooth, light green skin glistens in the sunlight, gradually tapering towards the stem. The large, heart-shaped leaves surrounding it boast prominent veins, adding to the plant's charm. As I transition from writing about plants, leaves, and flowers to the vegetable world, I find joy in recognizing the familiar shapes, colours, and appearances of garden treasures like this Calabash, which often arrive from the market but now thrive in my own garden, warming my heart.

Nothing is everything  Happy with nothing, free from life's disarray Several evils come with something, every single day Focus on nothing, and peace will reign inside and out No major discoveries required, no need to invent or doubt Slowly settle down to nothing, and abundance will unfold In the emptiness, truth emerges, young and old Not in many things, but in the nothing, we find our way To a peace that's supreme, and a heart that's at play

 Time, the truant  Mythical time, a relative concept, Means different things to different intellects. Situations, moods, and perceptions entwine, Shaping the plight, the might, the sight, and the fight's design. A merry-go-round of emotions, not always bright, Not always a hungry stomach or a thirsty night, But sometimes a lover's wait, an examination's fright, Or agony on a deathbed, a desperate plight. Variegated time stomps, with diverse pace, Meaning different things to different people in its space.

 "P.S. I don't exist" written on a pebble can be interpreted in several ways. The writer is nonexistent. A commentary on the fleeting nature of existence. The pebble, a small, insignificant object, bears a message that questions the writer's own existence, highlighting the impermanence of life. A poignant expression of feelings of invisibility, insignificance, or disconnection. The writer is conveying a sense of not being seen or heard. A nod to the absurdity of life, where a message on a pebble declares nonexistence, challenging the reader to ponder the meaning and purpose of such a statement. Street art or guerrilla poetry, where the pebble becomes a canvas for a thought-provoking message. The beauty of this phrase lies in its ambiguity, allowing the reader to interpret it in their own way.

 Why do you want to grow up? Why the frantic hurry to grow up, When gory scenes await, and good is trampled in the mud? A spate of violence, terror, and anguish will ensue, Fires that can't be doused, leaving scars anew. Tears flood, fears rush, kindness blushes, Why hasten to leave childhood's gentle hush? Oh, be a kid forever, wild and free, Embrace the joy, simplicity, and glee. Let's not rush into the darkness, let's delay, And cherish the beauty of a child's sweet way and the gentle sway The last line "And the gentle sway" adds a soothing and calming touch to the poem, evoking the image of a gentle rocking motion, symbolizing the peaceful and carefree nature of childhood.

  Embracing the Timeless My journey with Time begins when I realise it's all a myth, as demonstrated by Einstein. Ancient scriptures echo this truth, revealing the illusion of Time. In the Hindu tradition, Kala Bhairavi, the goddess of Time, reminds us how we're driven by the past, present, and future, forever losing peace and balance. Time is a leveller, a mocking bird that plays with our perceptions, and yet, it's more insulated than any other force. Time ticking away for those... - thinking they don't have time - worried about Time - puzzled about Time - devoid of rhyme - missing the rhythm of life Time stays forever when you... - listen intently to life Time escapes the... - broken, cowardly, the conceitful And the expanded versions: Time ticking away for those who wait, but for those who take action, time is ticking towards a brighter fate. Time ticking away for those thinking they don't have time, yet it's in the present moment that we find the power to re

 A Child's Plea Amma, the kajal-mixed tears cascading down, Your white saree, a symbol of purity and love, now stained with sorrow's dark crown. Your tears, a lament for humanity's plight, For the humble and suppressed, suffering in endless night. These unbridled tears, a narrative of the world's pain, Atrocities, crime, and falsehood, assuming monstrous forms in vain. A tired witness, I am, to the injustices of our time, Longing to fly away, to a realm where love and peace entwine. But I am your child, and a child forever I'll remain, Shielded from the vicissitudes that bring you tears and pain. Let not the darkness of this world change my heart's tide, May I remain your tear drop, seeking the ocean's finality.

A wooden log, sawed and trimmed to create projections, serves as a rustic stand or platform for positioning planters. The natural texture of the wood adds a charming touch to the display, while the projections provide a sturdy base for the planters to sit upon.

The Naga, which symbolizes Shiva's ornament, is paradoxically also the symbol of death, delivering a fatal bite. This duality reminds us that understanding nature and its symbolisms helps us acknowledge our limitations and vulnerabilities. By embracing these symbols and their meanings, we can refine ourselves, recognizing the delicate balance between life and death, and the beauty and danger that coexist in the natural world.

The flowers that thrilled us the other day now hang as pods on a rope-like structure, their beauty and charm diminished. Yet, the memory of their extraordinary glory, showcased in a single, fleeting appearance, remains a testament to nature's miracles. I'm tempted to open the pod and uncover the secrets within, hoping to relive the beauty of the bloomed display. But I refrain, knowing it's futile to try and recreate the magic of that singular, nocturnal appearance. The Brahmakamal flower's glory is a fleeting wonder, meant to be cherished in memory, not recreated by human hands.

 Twist of fate Intensity shatters all barriers, Abrupt endings, then sudden restarts. Limits dissolve, becoming limitless, A cycle of building and abating, A macabre dance of loss and gain, Where pain and gain entwine like a braid. Whose pain, whose gain? Whose loss, whose toss? A pawn in the game, aiming for the king, Ending with the queen, in a twist of fate's ring.

In a mad, mad world, I don't feel sane I once declared myself very sane But sanity's been sanitised, vanity vaporised Leaving me with impaired senses, nothing unusual I'm slowly, steadily gaining ground But it's shaky, quaking, aching all around A witness to the chaos, I'm lost and found

  A slender tendril stretches into the air, curving gently to cradle a tiny yellow Allamanda bloom on a delicate shoot. The entire scene sways softly in the breeze, as if performing a gentle dance. Against the vibrant green backdrop, which radiates an aura of serenity, the flower stands alone, yet exudes joy, crafting a new experience with each subtle movement. Its solitary presence in the space is a testament to the beauty of simplicity and the elegance of nature.

Brahma Kamala at last has  bloomed beautifully, showcasing its pristine white petals that appear almost ethereal against the backdrop of the terracotta pot. The intricate, delicate stamens and the symmetrical arrangement of petals exude an unparalleled elegance. It's as if nature has poured all its artistry into this one magnificent flower. The contrast between the soft, almost luminous flower and the rustic charm of the pot adds to the overall enchantment of the scene. Truly, a once-a-year marvel that captivates the heart and soul.

Our yard is graced by a thriving Teak tree, its broad, heart-shaped leaves and numerous clusters of delicate, light-coloured flowers creating a stunning spectacle. Originating from seeds that drifted from neighbour's tree, this and another tree have grown and flourished over the years. The tree's sturdy limbs now support a lush canopy, with flowers arranged in dense, conical panicles, bursting forth in a vibrant display. From the balcony, I've watched the tree evolve, its varying sizes and shapes adding depth and richness to the yard's landscape, a true marvel.

That eats into the flesh of leaves, inscribes stories, and has a dubious reputation ... yet, it plays a vital role in the ecosystem, transforming into a beautiful butterfly or moth, contributing to pollination and the beauty of nature.

Each day, I uncover fresh delights in the Allamanda vine, its emerald green stems bursting with radiant yellow flowers. The leaves, with their lustrous finish and supple, oval forms, unfold in alternating succession along the twisting stems. As the vine entwines with neighboring foliage, it crafts a picturesque scene of unbridled nature, a true marvel of organic splendour.

A vibrant pink hibiscus flower is in full bloom, showcasing its five wide petals that radiate outwards. The petals are velvety and smooth, displaying a rich, deep pink hue that contrasts beautifully with the lush green leaves surrounding it. The central stamen cluster is adorned with delicate anthers, each topped with a bright yellow pollen sac, adding a touch of intricate beauty to the bloom. Behind the hibiscus, a tall, spiky spider plant emerges from a decorative ceramic pot with intricate black patterns on a white background. The spider plant's long, arching leaves are striped with green and white, creating a dynamic backdrop that complements the hibiscus flower.

Amidst the chaos of a world that often prioritizes self-preservation, two separate yet equally remarkable journeys of resilience emerge. An abandoned dog and elderly parents, each facing their own struggles in isolation, find the inner fortitude to persevere, inspiring hope in a world that often seems to have forgotten its value.

 We will succeed  One day, we will succeed, Doubts cast away, fears swept aside. A road paved with noble intentions unfolds, Leading to an unusual welcome, where rousing spirits reside. We will succeed, with childhood smiles intact, Women walking unhurt, respected, and intact. The old and infirm will walk with firm strides, One day, we will succeed, full of confidence, yes, we will thrive. When hatred, cruelty, and animosity are laid to rest, We will be at our best. The wretched will laugh, the weak will walk, We will succeed, one day, full of confidence.

 Beyond the surface  If you want to know me, Not when I am in tears or fears, Not when I am swept by the tide, Not when wind roars in my ears for years, Not when I am bitten by commotion and emotion, Visit me by my dreams and streams, When I am floating on my reasons and seasons, When I am drifting in currents of melodies sweet, Meet me when I am at my best, heady and steady.

 Chittamu nischalamu (dhanyasri) With trust in your pure and enlightened mind, Sri Rama, I seek forgiveness for my arrogance and inconsistency. You are my revered Guru, a radiant embodiment of the seed's potency, the bee's guidance, the sun's radiance, Bhadrudu's wisdom, and the timeliness of a divine arrival. As your Tyagaraja, I honor you with devotion and gratitude, my earthly guide and revered Guru.

An unknown feeling haunts me, a persistent unease Unfinished tasks, unending questions, no beginning, no release No rhyme, no reason, just a nagging sense of disquiet Like a mosquito's incessant buzz, it refuses to quiet I continue to rumble, grumble, and search for a way Through the darkness, I walk, but the door leads to nothing each day No solace, no comfort, just an endless, lonely road A solitary journey, with no one to share the load In the distance, a solitary reaper sings a sweet melody Unheard, yet sweeter still, a haunting harmony A poignant reminder of life's mysteries and pain A staccato rhythm that echoes, a refrain that remains.

The Variegated White Aralia is a plant of striking beauty, its white-outlined leaves a true marvel. Sufficient sans flowers, the leaf's unique shape, design, and thickness mesmerize and delight. In today's indoor spaces, such plants adorn and uplift, inviting us to pause, gaze, and contemplate. As we behold their beauty, we can lose ourselves in thought, finding serenity and connection to nature's splendour.

  A celestial tapestry, where stars shine bright on an emerald canvas. Effervescent joy, immortalized in poetry and melody. The allure is irresistible, a symphony of beauty and charm that mesmerizes the soul.

  As I strolled further, I discovered the Plumeria, its radiant white blooms glowing like tiny moons, emanating a serene ambiance. These dainty flowers adorned the park's edge, spreading delight to all who passed by. Each milky white blossom whispers its own tale, but capturing their beauty up close remained elusive. Unfortunately, the ground has been dug up for lake-side fencing, separating me from these lovelies. I can only hope for another chance to photograph them intimately. Though I missed capturing other enchanting plants, I'll continue to share my encounters with you.

The Alamanda has flourished, its girth resembling a tree, and is now adorned with an abundance of vibrant pink flowers. Situated in front of a house near the entrance of Kapra Lake, its beauty is complete. I finally managed to capture its splendour today. These unexpected encounters during my walks are truly special, and I look forward to sharing more in the future.

Today, my quest is to understand what was before and what's beyond. Not a mystic delving into primordial questions, but a reaction to daily pestilence. Pounded day in and day out by thoughts and environment, I crave answers. Why was before and beyond? Ab initio ad infinitum. I apply this question to all things. If it was nothing before and beyond, is this a duality or unity? If the same, what connects them? If binary, are they at odds? If everything is nothing, what's left to concern myself with?

  Happy Monday! I'm thrilled to share a stunning photo of light pink Mousandhya flowers I captured yesterday during my walk. As a newcomer to these blooms, I was delighted to stumble upon them in another colony, where they adorned the front yards of a few houses with their gentle beauty. Their lovely surprise has left me eager to learn more about these captivating flowers.

Good morning, my friend. I'm finding it incredibly challenging to navigate this journey. Even my strongest resolve seems insufficient to break free from this cycle. Life's script is complex and inscrutable, drawing us in like moths to a flame. We foresee the outcome, yet struggle to control the unfolding. We must rely on time-tested wisdom, though it's a difficult path to follow. Let's hold onto hope and think positive – we will find freedom one day.

On Friendship Day, we remember the transformative bond between Krishna and Kuchela. One, a majestic prince, embodied the universe of love, radiating warmth and confidence like a shining sun. His presence was a beacon of hope, illuminating the path for those around him. The other, a humble devotee, carried a world of deep-seated sorrow, his heart heavy with the burdens of poverty and self-doubt. His eyes, once bright, had dimmed with the uncertainty of his own worth, like a flame flickering in the wind. Yet, in this unlikely friendship, we see the power of love and acceptance bridging the chasm between two worlds. Krishna's unwavering confidence and compassion enveloped Kuchela, embracing his frailties and fears, while Kuchela's vulnerability and devotion touched Krishna's heart, reminding him of the beauty of humility. In this sacred encounter, we find a reflection of our own struggles and the transformative potential of friendship, where love and acceptance can

Catharsis  Tears, a deluge from the depths, unfettered and unexplained. They surge, a mysterious tide, without regard for reason or rhyme. Oh, to let them cleanse the world's dark stains, to rinse away the heart's deep pains. But they fall, unbidden, a poignant reminder of the turmoil that remains. The source, a mystery, the pain, a silent scream, the tears, a lonely refrain.

Chasing mirages Swept into the mystique, knowingly deceived A worshipper of falsehoods, chasing mirages I've believed Thirst unquenched, my frayed eyes roam A grooving mind, forever reaching, yet finding only an empty home

Shrouded among glossy leaves, a tiny terracotta pot nestles at the entrance steps, cradling a charming surprise. A converted spatula, now a cheerful planter, wears a bright yellow coat adorned with a beaming smiley face and an uplifting message: 'Keep Smiling.' This delightful sentinel greets all who enter, setting the tone for a warm and welcoming space.

A green cat with a curly tail, drawn on a background of  blue and orange streaks, smeared by the enthusiastic touch of a child.

A toy and a man, an unlikely pair, A toy once asked a man with curious gaze, "Where do our comparisons start and end in this daze?" We're both pawns in a game, played into some hands, Entertainment, entertainment, entertainment, that's our stands. But while we don't complain, you often do, You help each other, yet harm too. We simply follow your commands, we don't deviate, A reflection of your actions, a mirrored fate. You hate, but we simply abide, Silent witnesses to the human tide.

Let it go to hell, you've done your part To the extent you can, when odds are stacked against your heart What the hell can you do, when fate's against the tide? No use singing songs of frustration, or letting vexation reside Summon all your energies, still hope remains Even when all eggs perish, one egg brings new life to reign A chick emerges, bringing light to the darkest day A beacon of promise, in a world that's gone astray

Prodigious efforts to break free, Yet, ungainly and ill-fated, they seem to be. No relationship, no relevance, one to the other, Cries in the wilderness, melodies lost in the din and clutter. Pick up the threads left behind, For gurus don't come easily, and the path is unpaved. Move along, let the journey unfold, Don't force the pace, let it happen on its own.

Yesterday's flower, beauty lost today Another bloom, another beauty on the horizon's sway Surpassing yesterday's, bespoke impermanence I behold A witness too, on the wane, yet oblivious to grow old Stray dogs annoy, but a hooligan's cruel deed Stealing a newborn puppy, leaving its mother in distress, indeed A deep cut, still bleeding, a wound that won't subside On this trapeze, emotions swing, a mix of feelings inside Like a burst pipe, water rises, or flames that fuel and roar A maelstrom of emotions, as I witness life's fragile score.

Flower held magically by the winding twine, A beacon of sunshine, in nature's design. Amidst the green leaves and twisted vines, Its vibrant yellow bloom gracefully shines. A splash of colour against the tangled brown, A delicate beauty in nature’s own. With petals soft, a trumpet's flare, It brings a touch of brightness to share. In the midst of leaves and dried twigs around, This radiant flower stands profound.

A mandara plant stands tall, its leaves a kaleidoscope of greens and yellows. Two leaves, once green, now yellowing, shine with a soft, warm light, signaling their final act. Yet, amidst this gentle decline, a single pink flower blooms, vibrant and radiant, a beacon of life and beauty. The yellowing leaves, though fading, still harmonize with the flower's splendor, their unique charm unfolding in a final dance. For even in their last journey, they remain an integral part of the plant's story, until they gently detach, leaving behind a memory of their fleeting beauty.  A poignant reminder that even in decline, beauty still blooms, and life's final acts can be its most radiant.

 Far away shores Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram, hope, enchantment, and joy reside, While Asatya, Adharma, Amrita, darkness, and strife abide, Logic falters, as some choose the wrong path to tread, Embracing Papam, Tamas, Moha, in their hearts and heads. Their egos, a heavy burden, disconnected from the cosmic rhyme, A discordant note, that echoes through time, In this turbulent sea, I struggle to stay afloat, A delicate balance, between ideals and life's harsh coat. The mind, a restless wanderer, pulled by conflicting desires, A constant battle, to keep the heart and soul on fire, Yet, I hold on to truth, and the principles I adore, And strive to navigate, this crisis-ridden shore.

 Rise like a Phoenix  Hope never ceases to glimmer, Even when things seem to be at rock bottom, And return chances weak and bleak. Step into step, dance macabre, Landslides of crushed dreams, Still, the light comes out of tiny holes, Honge kamyab ek din.

 The play of life New paradigms emerge, the hard way, lessons learnt Mind alone knows, as it's the way, making you see Black and white, I prefer to turn Nelson's eye To dramas played, the actor in full action, his Temporary moustache dangling, director in dismay Actor in display, who knows what, Tirumalesa?

 31st July, 2024 soliloquy  Respect the context and balance of all things, lest disregarding harmony brings severe consequences. Our actions are under constant self-reflection and universal scrutiny; let's not overlook this truth amidst concerns about technological surveillance. Is it the play of karma or the unknown that guides us? We toil and struggle for fleeting desires, ignoring the turmoil within. How do these essential truths evade our attention? Do we knowingly walk into chaos, blinded by maya (illusion)? Even pious intentions get buried; how can we awaken our third eye to see beyond?

 Tale of two observers A learned man, devoted to teaching his students, lived opposite a prostitute's residence. He would often observe her clients and ponder her perceived debased life. Meanwhile, the lady would secretly watch the scholar's spiritual pursuits and noble teachings. The story raises a profound question: who is truly cultivating noble thoughts and nurturing their soul - the learned man, despite his fascination with the prostitute's life, or the prostitute herself, who observes and perhaps aspires to the scholar's spiritual path? This story highlights the importance of looking beyond surface-level appearances and judgments, and instead, focusing on one's own actions and intentions. It encourages self-reflection and challenges us to reevaluate our assumptions about others.  (From a story shared by Chaganti Koteswara rao garu)

 Insouciant  Those who stirred my day yesterday Still slumber, untroubled, till mid-day's sway While blues envelop me, and sleep flees away They rest, serene, as my restlessness starts to stay Too many wishes, yet no path unfolds Do they know the storm that they've left to hold?

 Swept away So much, so many, in limited time, Without effort, without intent, we're swayed, Swarmed and flooded, by life's endless tide, Exceeding all limits, breathless, bottomless inside. Mystifying, meaningless, yet we're swept away, In the vastness of existence, night and day. I don't believe, but something prompts, Where do they arise from? We like or not, They are there, like annoying bees, Revulsion, helplessness, but existence weighs, You, on the pal, with the pilgrim's burden bearing on you.

 Rise again  There is competition Unceasing rivalry The spirit sprinting Mind that is retreating Eagerness to get it all Soberness that warns of consequences As matter dominates spirit All notions in disarray Need a break Stuck forever Must find ways and means The spirit should prevail Who the winner is, time will decide As dreams take a nap The reliance on some must shatter Must rise again It's never too late

  Friends' etched in stone, smiles forever. A testament to the joy and connection that makes friendship so special!

The painting features a vibrant, abstract composition with swirling patterns and lines in various colours, including white, red, yellow, orange, and black, set against a predominantly green and blue background. The use of bold, dynamic curves and dots creates a sense of movement and energy. The artwork is bordered by natural banana bark, adding an organic element to the piece. Title for this artwork is "Lagoon of Colours"

 Power Of stillness  As I opened my book today, a Bible verse flashed before me: 'Be still, for I am God.' In that moment, I realized that the only thing I need to learn is to be still – unswayed by the turmoil around me. Like a pendulum, my mind can easily swing from one extreme to another, undoing all that I've accomplished. But I must strive for stability and tolerance, remaining calm amidst the chaos. Equanimity is my choice, for when the waters of my mind are still, I can see to the bottom. A disturbed mind only spreads chaos. In the stillness, I find clarity. In the stillness, I find peace.

 Luck or pluck Unfulfilled desires taunt my inadequacy When certain traits are rewarded, I'm reminded of my deficiency I fail because I lack the qualities that bring success Why some go hungry while others waste wealth to flaunt their excess Inequalities stem more from ability than fate or destiny Know the truth within before blaming luck for your misery

 Unstoppable  Unlimited happiness, uncontainable bliss Humongous, enormous, and overflowing Surging past all barriers like a river racing to the sea Only the turbulence can convey the intensity Transcending all conventional bounds A heightened, explosive state of ecstasy Ananda, paramanandam, brahmanandam

 Simply nothing  No money, no honey No rewards, no awards No sparkles, no dazzles No soul stirrings, no delusions Simply peace, silence filled with peace Wrapped and draped in nothingness

This jasmine plant has flourished remarkably. Once a tangled mess of dry, dead wood, it now resembles a newborn, rejuvenated by the nourishing showers. Its formerly barren branches now don a lush green cloak, teeming with new life and vibrancy. And now, the pièce de résistance - it is ready to unfurl its delicate, star-shaped flowers, filling the air with their intoxicating, sweet fragrance, a sensory delight that will captivate and enchant all who behold it.

A delicate clay pot, nestled upon a weathered wooden tree stump, cradles a vibrant display of Portulaca flowers. Petite, pink blooms with bright yellow centers dance amidst the succulent's fleshy leaves and stems, creating a mesmerizing contrast of texture and color. The tree stump, worn by time and nature's elements, adds a rustic, organic charm to the setting. Its decaying wood provides a natural, earthy pedestal for the pot, as if the flowers have claimed this spot as their own. The combination of the sturdy, aged stump and the delicate, thriving Portulaca creates a captivating harmony.  Appreciate the beauty in impermanence and imperfection.

The intricate dance of nature is on full display in this enchanting scene, where the Allamanda flower gracefully entwines with the curry leaves plant. This harmonious union is a poignant reminder of the interdependence that exists in nature, where diverse plants coexist and enhance each other's beauty. The curry leaves plant, nestled alongside the seetha phal (custard apple) plant, adds a unique layer of complexity to the garden. While the two plants may be challenging to distinguish, their leaves provide a subtle yet distinct clue to their individual identities. This natural coexistence is a testament to the beauty of diversity and the wonders that unfold when different species thrive together. The garden becomes a vibrant tapestry, woven from the threads of interconnectedness and mutual support.