Spirit, art and life unfolded

 States of being  Who was that, tossed between sleep, dream, and deep sleep in the dark of night? And who's he, woken up to today? Are they the same? Who's this, seemingly common in all these states, newborn?

 Rummaging through  A buyer of discarded goods shouted from his van, "I'll buy this, that, and whatnot!" I considered selling my worries and problems, But knew his response: "No buyers for those." I scanned the discarded items, broken and worn, Yet saw potential in repurposing some. Then, I realized what I truly wanted to dispose of: Myself, the parts I've outgrown. I chuckled inwardly at the absurd thought, Amused by the whirlwind within.

 Elusive essence  A nagging doubt, "What's my essence?" Whom to ask? No father, mother, learned man, or guru in presence Glad for technology's aid, I query AI A prompt response analyzes various elements that make me Harmony of body, mind, spirit, it says But I miss the essence, in digital haze I seek the truth, beyond words and screens A felt sense, deep within, my soul's keen The search continues, through introspection's gate Listening to intuition, emotions elate Passions, values, purpose, I explore and find My essence, a mystery, unfolding in mind

 Breaking free Where am I behind smog? Lost in this lag, Good or bad, I'm losing myself, But I'm not sad, Sure, not a fad.

 Echoes of serenity  Omkaram, the primordial sound, Resonates inside, dispelling commotion around, Slowly it spreads from cell to cell, Every fibre and atom, Forming a shield against external commotion. A fleeting feeling captured in words?

 Tribute to Hussainsagar Inspired by Sarojini Naidu's 1912 poem November 14, 2024 Hussainsagar's waters languish still, Once mirroring beauty, serene and deep, Inspiring Sarojini Naidu's timeless verse, "Drinking beauty of thy luminous face," Now, development's relentless stride, Leaves concrete's scar, a tarnished tide. Arrogance and greed, side by side, Erode the lake's forgotten allure, urban pains reside. Vitality wanes, reflections blur and fade, Stench hangs in air, nature's patience frayed. Human tides trample, Sarojini's voice whispers low, Echoes of a lost grandeur, in urban woe. Yet, in memory, Hussainsagar's charm, Translucent music contril, a haunting form, Echoes of a deep, rich harmony past, Lingering whispers that forever will last.

 13th July 2022 In the zone Every once in a while, a story draws us in so deeply that we become wholly, fully immersed in it. The physical world around us tunes out, time stops, and our day-to-day anxieties, to-dos and distractions all fade away. The story’s world comes to life in a more tangible way and then real one within our imagination. That sense of fluidity between your body and mind, where you are totally absorbed by and deeply focused on something, beyond the point of distraction. Time feels like it has slowed down. Your senses are heightened. You are at one with the task at hand, as action and awareness sync to create an effortless momentum.

 Chronicles of SVP: My Inner World 13.11.2024 Crossroads of Contemplation Lost in thought, I stand at my doorway, Eyes closed, questioning my path, "What am I doing?" "A maze of thoughts, a heart in plight, Uneasiness grips, my whole being tight. Anger simmers, at things beyond control, Purposelessness at heart, yet chasing goals. Detachment calls, yet I dive deeper, Into attachments, ambitions, and fleeting dreams. Life speeds by, scenes fading fast, Leaving me grasping for meaning that will last. In contemplation, I seek escape, From life's noise and dismay."

 SVP 11.11.2024 Life's puzzle pieces scatter, and I'm lost in a whirlpool of emotions. A single misstep, and my balance topples like a house of cards. Self-doubt creeps in, a thief in the night, stealing my peace. I face a Sisyphean struggle, building a better self, only to have unworthiness whisper 'you're not enough.' Time's mirror reflects my flaws, and shadows of self-doubt darken my path. Yet, I seek to reclaim balance, to silence the inner critic, and rediscover my true worth.

 SVP Reflection of 11.11.2024 As trash accumulates around me, a nagging thought arises: What if it could assess my worth? I fear its verdict would be far from flattering. A sobering reminder: Our value is often measured by how we judge others. Our worth is relative. Haunting question: If the discarded could judge me, would they deem me valuable? The question lingers, a mirror held to my own perceptions.

 Just That No words, no thoughts No seeking, no bounds Simply, utterly, That

 Beneath the ripple  In my childhood, tales of river whirlpools captivated me, Where swirling waters swept lives away, leaving none free. This haunting image etched itself into my mind, A lasting symbol of life's turbulent, unpredictable design.

 Beneath the Surface Beyond words, a radiant joy on one side, Unlimited sorrow on the other, a heavy tide. Misery and euphoria entwined, Confusion and conflict, a troubled mind. A pilgrim's burden weighs upon my back, Longing for solace, a respite to unpack. What force can lift this weighty load? Who can bring peace to this narrow well I've tracked

 A House Divided How long do I carry this frame? Exhausted and drained, I've lost the will to bear it. Multiple voices within me conflict: One urges me to let go, while another accumulates more. I'm torn between desire and aversion, Uncertain what's truly wanted or desirable. Who decides? The inner critic or the one that fuels my passions? Or others in hiding, unseen, undefined, Shaping my thoughts, whispering my choices. Anger and frustration mount, overwhelming me. To whom do these emotions belong? The shadows within or the light that I seek?

 One Flower, Two Stories: A Lesson in Unity The Bethlehem Lily, known as Brahma Kamalam in India, poignantly illustrates the complex nature of human perception. This sacred plant, revered in Christianity and Hinduism, assumes different forms and meanings across cultures. In the West, it symbolizes hope, purity, and divine birth, while in India, it represents creation and spiritual growth, associated with Lord Brahma. This striking duality reflects humanity's tendency to assign meanings based on cultural and religious contexts, often creating divisions and ownership disputes. Sadly, this fragmentation can lead to conflicts, violence, and bigotry. Yet, this very example urges us to recognize our shared humanity beyond differences, appreciate diverse perspectives, and seek common ground. As we gaze into the looking glass of our collective experiences, may we reflect the beauty of unity in diversity. Let us strive for empathy, inclusivity, and mutual understanding, embracing the multif...

 Good morning.  Soulful droplets from uplifted hands, Flow into the river of inner awakening, Uniting with the boundless sea of Cosmic Consciousness.

 Intruder Devil I thought I was enjoying my moment When an intruder devil landed gently, totally unawares No muss, no fuss Stinging pain with a slender needle Man has still not made I just wondered if a similar needle Could replace injections, blood testing, and others It bites, sucks my blood Shattering peace, balance, and composure When my disturbed attention Goes over to find the culprit, nothing remains there, Not even a trace of blood.

 Happy Diwali to all! My ardent wish, a Diwali serene and pure, Free from noise, smoke, and chaotic allure. Only oil lamps shine, radiant and bright, Simple, yet splendid, in gentle light. Their soft glow illuminates the night, As tranquility and peace take flight. A time for reflection, love, and cheer, A smoke-free, noise-free Diwali, crystal clear.

 Meditations 29.10.2024 Two paradoxes exist: 1. The mind's struggle with opposing forces (good/bad, desirable/undesirable, real/unreal). 2. The consciousness paradox: aware yet powerless. The question remains: In the absence of control, what drives our choices?

 Echoes in the Void (3:45 AM 29.10.2024) Razing thoughts, erasing me From pyre, I watch castles crumbling, dissolving Reference points from which I arose, disappearing one after another In nothing, I am everything And in everything, I am nothing Quintessential dust, subatomic particles Nothing remains, nothing ever existed Only imagination conjures up all these Amen

 Bitter sweet taste of imagination  I ride my fantasies, a tiger's fierce sway, Becoming its prey, lost in the fray. Many vanish like fireflies in the night, Yet fireflies are more real than mirages' fleeting light. I call them true dreams, ephemeral and bright, Though many leave me inept, lost in their flight. For in their brief glow, I glimpse what's divine, A whispered promise of wonder, beyond the mundane's confine.

 Feelings  Feelings, my feelings, their feelings, none A pot overflowing, weighed down too long Why feelings? Why do they matter? They shatter, leaving scars that linger On the highway of emotions, a forest deep Feelings swirl, a tangled, endless sweep Shredded, dreaded, yet I float Adrift on a sea of sentiments, remote

 Awakening brilliance  Nature brimming with consciousness Wakes up to brilliance and resplendence Darkness of all kinds shattered Ecstasy dances like the peacock in the wild Rhythms spread, melodies sweep I am comatosed, possessed by thrills Let only this imagination sustain While rest fades away

 Layers of time and tears It's not just years,   But heartache that sears.   In silence it nears,   Each scar it reveres,   Worn down by hopes and fears. But from these layers,   A soul still dares,   To rise from the cares,   Seeking light that repairs.

 Suhana safar? Tears well up, as suffering's weight presses down, Crushing gaiety beneath agony's iron feet. Life's canvas, ever-unfolding, weaves its tale, A complex tapestry of joy, sorrow, and frail. Who conceived this intricate, heart-wrenching design? Laughter halts, and cries begin, a sorrowful refrain. In life's ongoing melody, discarded notes resound, As joy and pain entwine, without a pause. Life's journey, a suhana safar (beautiful travel), Unfolds relentlessly, joy and sorrow unravel.

 Jagat  There's nothing to give, Nothing to take. What's at stake? It's all a fake. Disdainful drama, Am I always in coma? Going in circles, No miracles. Always at the same point, That's all it's meant."

 Whirlpool of contrasts A world of duality, or is it multiplicity? Some weep, others perish, many kill, few live. Beauty and the beast entwined, Ugliness and lust forever aligned. In this whirlpool, we're lost and swirled, No rhyme, no reason, all treason unfurled. Trapped in this prison, we're tossed and twirled, A never-ending cycle, our fate unfurled.

 Locus of ignorance  Locus of ignorance, the focus, Efflorescence in avidya's darkest veil. Truth remains shrouded, unseen, In thick smoke, obscured, unrevealed. Perceptions distorted, steadfast beliefs, Dark minds harbor dark, twisted thoughts. What they believe, they deem universal, Blind to the truth, in self-made snares. Slowly eroding melody of dull pain, Consequences of misdeeds, in vain. Helpless, hapless witness to the night, A soul tormented by cruel sight.

 Too heavy  Heaviness descends, a ton of steel, Crushing my soul, leaving only sighs. Regrets and dull pain, a relentless sea, Memories lapping at my feet. A present tense, fraught with futility. Wisdom guides me to absorb the pain, But the fact remains, an unyielding strain.

 Embers of Transformation As flames engulf the body, once I thought was mine, Mercilessly burning, yet freeing, I redefine. Tears of near and dear fall, while I smile, looking back, Mockery and pain, now forever gone. Crackling sounds, smoke ascends, Embers dance, as though rejoicing. The body, embracing elements, pure and true, Wooden pieces, I loved once and crafted, now serving a purpose different. The pyre rises, surroundings fade, The scent, once loathed, now rooted. I awaited this release forever, it seems, A fiery rebirth, from life's extremes.

 I Shed My Masks I cast down my identity here, To emerge my own, reborn and clear. To discover myself, to know my soul, I'll return, transformed, with heart made whole. In new form, fully resolved I'll stand, Revealing my true self, unplanned. The faces I wore, a mocking guise, Laughing, teasing, with deceptive eyes. Years of pretence, now shed away, The true identity, still unknown today. Give me the chance to merge with my core, To embrace my authentic self, forever more.

 Earthen harmony  Huge earthen pot obscuring everything else, Maati kahe, resonates Kabir poetry. The dark girl with Tanpura sings, A shiny white bindu on her forehead, Essence of vedantic wisdom. Young girls learning singing along, Too early to absorb intricacies of life. A small girl playing tabla, They all run to stream, Play with mud, Earthly feeling which we are deprived mostly. They and nature move in symphony.

 Yogi's gift Yonder, the old temple in wilderness, Feet take me there. Mind lost in singing glory, in silence, The light fades, moon rises in the darkness above the temple. Stars glimmering distantly, A celestial canvas reveals. Beautiful poetry lines illustrating The mendicant on an unknown pursuit, Abhisarika waiting endlessly at the doorstep. Yogi gave her a begging bowl, She found two eyes in the bowl. The voice said, "Amma, you praised my eyes yesterday.

 Divine resonance Morning Serenade Melody breaks morning silence, Drowsiness flees, awakening delight. Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram - echoes divine, Truth, goodness, beauty, in harmony entwine. As street dogs stroll, nonchalant and free, Birds soar, seeking breakfast's glee. My mind seeks meaning in Upanishadic refrains, In morning stillness, life's purpose regains. Amidst ancient architectural grandeur, Sunbeams peek through leafy clusters, tender. I bow to the spirit that brought forth this sight, Gratitude fills my heart, in morning's golden light.

 Life's soundtrack  A Quiet Parallel Old Hindi and Telugu songs weave memories, A timeless tapestry of nostalgia's hue. With every note, I journey through the years, Childhood dreams, youthful thrills, and life's pursuits. These melodies evoke the bittersweet, Loss and longing, glory and heartache's beat. A rollercoaster ride of emotions divine, From dizzy heights to depths that leave me blind. Feelings touch and go, yet linger on, Echoes of love, laughter, and life gone. Faces and incidents, like whispers, return, Reminding me of what was, what could have been. In this symphony of memories and tears, I find solace, a sense of all the years. A quiet parallel, where music meets soul, A reflection of life's beauty, whole. Life's journey, like a song, unwinds, Twists and turns, where love and loss entwine. Each melody a chapter, a story told, A nostalgic bridge to moments old.

 Longing self Why beckon memories, they linger still Echoes of love, forever vibrating Who holds on, and why New moments arrive, yet Longing's embers continue burning Why anchor in familiar hearts Unknown faces, yet shared loves unfold In memories, common ground emerges Connecting souls, forever old Memories twine, entwine I thought I'd let go, but can't depart Some unseen forces hold me fast Mythical time and space entwine.

 "Nothing mysterious, except thinking. Everything as clear as day. A clever ploy by some to steal the show" statement offers profound insights into the human experience.  At its core, it highlights the complex nature of thought, suggesting that the only true mystery lies within our minds, where thoughts, emotions, and perceptions reside. This idea resonates with Plato's Allegory of the Cave, where prisoners mistake shadows for reality. Similarly, our thoughts can create illusions, obscuring truth. The phrase "Everything as clear as day" emphasizes that, apart from these mental intricacies, life's essentials are straightforward and understandable. However, the final line, "A clever ploy by some to steal the show," reveals a darker aspect. It implies that certain individuals or groups intentionally obscure truth and create complexity to manipulate others, gain power, or achieve their goals. This echoes George Orwell's warnings in "1984"...

 A debt beyond measure  Aspirations to be debt-free, To shed all obligations, if breath remains. Yet, how can I repay love and care, From parents, and kindness others have shared? Memories splash with joy, elation, and gratitude, A spreadsheet of moments, beyond arithmetic. Bismillah Khan's soulful Shehnai echoes, Stirring emotions, beckoning me to: Let go of the past. Seize the present (Carpe Diem). May I slip free from yesterday's grasp, And cherish now's beauty, before it fades to past.

 A cry for Refuge Let me not be lost in this concrete jungle. Let my head be afloat amidst drainage and garbage. May disturbing news from around the globe not fill my day, nor spill my mind. Let me not awaken to a brutal, polluted, noisy, raucous day. Save my soul from disarray, Rescue the planet from dismay.

 Deepam...  When I see the cotton wick dipped in sesame oil lit to brighten the puja room, the simmering yellow light that falls around brings me certain peace, comfort, and a deep sense of divinity. I never appreciated this same sense of tranquility when electric bulbs lit the space with greater brightness. There's a unique coolness and warmth in this light, and its balmy effect on my eyes is soothing. The entire atmosphere is replete with a sacred and divine aura, filling me with freshness and a renewed sense of life.

Suddenly, a song breaks out in my mind... Suddenly, gloom descends. No clue for the former or the latter. But I am high for the time being. I don't know how long this merry-go-round journey. Some uneasy thought or occurrence can derail the sway. I don't need big answers or solutions... Releases like this, if they crystallize, will take care of the rest. Not much to revel in this life... The best portion behind. Why do you simmer in this darkness... Picking scattered pebbles like a madman on the run?

Life's tapestry weaves good and bad, Sublime dreams and painful blame, Fragrant beauty and flagrant flaws, A radiant mix that mystifies and justifies. I'm lost in this potpourri of emotions, Where contradictions somehow align.

Let me not dwell in make-believe, But climb to realms where mastery and sanctity converge. May my thoughts, notions, beliefs, and experiences Surrender to the one source that permeates, fills, and elevates. As myths dissolve into nothingness, May only light remain, illuminating all. Tamosoma Jyotirgamaya" (तमसोमा ज्योतिर्गमय)

You leave behind a legacy of pain, A mental burden gained at birth, compounded by harmful actions and wicked thoughts. Unaware of the harm you cause, You wreck a beautiful life, crushing a child's fragile soul. Only God can save this child and transform your ways.

Fiaz, I met you at NCRI, unexpected, Never thought our bond would extend beyond. You stayed in touch, unlike many, Helping me in ways I never imagined. How did you depart so suddenly, Fiaz? I'm utterly devastated, my heart in pain. Few genuine relationships endure, Leaving me with shock, and a deep scar. I know death's certainty, yet can't bear Witnessing good people leave, like you, so rare. Your memory stays, a testament to your heart.

 Laconic wisdom! Here are some life phrases and wise cracks developed by me From here to nowhere, but heaven within No heaven no hell, just dwell Cry until you're dry, and your heart is empty Life is a balance of crafting our own destiny and surrendering to its unpredictable tide. When the storm rages, wisdom is lost in the brew, but when quiet returns, all is forgotten, like a lesson unlearned. Turmoil sparks vows to change, but calm lets old habits wag back We brazenly strut, uncaring and blind, until life's unexpected turns leave us reeling, and humility is forced upon us. We witness mortality of others, yet our own remains a mystery  We notice the flaws in others, but our own escape our attention

 What a morning! All plants look vibrant after the shower, shining in tender sunlight. The green glee spreads its wings, filling the surroundings with mirth. They speak a language that these deaf ears may not hear or blind eyes may not see, yet bringing up unknown joy, glistening and gratifying. Swaying in joy to the breeze, I am whole, the whole is me. How can I hold onto this feeling and not let it evaporate? How can it replace the constant drumming of other thoughts in my mind?

These plants, these flowers, and the intermittent drizzle all combine to create an unexplainable buoyancy, yet the cardeaux remains stubbornly stuck to a melancholic melody. I must grow into that stillness, allowing the cardeaux to be free to grow - its stems untainted, unsullied - and freeing me to experience that unencumbered.