My Grand Daughter

On a lovely spring day from clear skies 

A ray of sunshine descended on an apartment- a little baby doll.

Darkness shrinks away from her bright smile.

Wisps of black silky hair cover her tiny head.

Her peachy white cheeks are so tender to touch,

And her little cherry nose sucking the energy from universe, is set gently just above the rosy lips.

Dancing in her head behind her closed eyelids are the visions of starry universe;

Her mouth twitches in her sleep with a wondrous smile holding the secret of that delightful world,

Some call is a muscle contraction; I call it a playful blessing of Invisible to shower joy upon the onlookers.

It fills parental hearts in humble reverence for receiving such a lovely gift,

When she squeezes their adult finger placed upon her delicate hands.

Sitting beside her as if held by a magnet,

They marvel at the intricate design of Nature, so unique and yet so much like their own.

From eternity beyond life has been molding in ever-new pieces-

When ever two hearts meet in love giving an expression to their heart beat.

Each sapling- individual, precious, like made to order with precise specifications.

How the mysterious bonds of love get transferred from one heart to another- nobody knows

The flesh, the blood, the bone and the marrow all breathe in harmony

Bearing a stamp of delicate rhythm that exists in Universe invisible, unknown yet always in its working.

The Light And The Spider, Sunday, September 12, 2010 at 11:03am

Upanishad says, “ You are It.”
“O illumining Sun! The Pursha (The Eternal) there and there, He am I.”
Christ says, “ I and my Father are one.”
Holy Qur’an says, “ God guides to His light whom He will.”
Resting in armchair I ponder over the phrases.
On mantle sits the Buddha statue.
‘We are the sum total of few aggregates, says Buddha, void is all left at the end’.
What happens to consciousness?
I am troubled by the question.
Stephen Hawking says –“Universe can and will create itself from nothing.”
Is void or nothingness same as a vast eternal pool of Conscious energy
Capable of spontaneous creation,
Abiding in all yet transcending it all.
It lends its unconditional support for a grand design yet is free at will in its workings.
Buddha experienced it.
They call him ‘Tathagata’.
I look at the bronze statue again.
His raised hand lifts me in compassion.
He is One with Light.
The night darkens and moon shines on the window.
I put my notebook away and come out to greet the moon.
With a squint I hold the moonbeam in my eyes
The beam reverts to moon as I let go of it.
The soft glow of moonlight spreads calm everywhere.
The summer night is hot, the air still and tree leaves sleepy.
No noisy insects tonight.
All fiery discord subdued with the cool breath of harmony.
Under the bright porch light a silken web sparkles.
The spider crouched in his frail dwelling shines like a gold dime.
His slumber disturbed with my alien figure but not enough to make him run frantically from the web.
His eyes are too small for me to look into.
Yet I feel him looking at me.
His little eyes like two lumps of a mosquito bitten flash, weave a silken thread to captivate me.
In the quiet of night with light around me
I stand spell bound
Feeling the connectivity yet not knowing of it.

Just A Line Below Eternity, Saturday, December 5, 2009





I will love you always
But can’t be loving all the time
I can be good sometime
And can’t be bad all the time.
I leave my heart’s door open
But the chills of pain shut it tight.


To pour my soul in your heart appeals to me, yet I would stay just a line below eternity.
I can peak and look all around for you but my safe heaven is also dear to me.
Only my own fears would push me out, to seek the sanctuary in your embrace.


It sounds so selfish
Yet in hour of my desperation
Would I see you with arms open or your back turned to me?
This is the question that pounds my heart again and again.


I know the sun doesn’t shine all the time
The soft breeze turns in to a fierce storm and a river dries before reaching the ocean.


In summer’s heat,
While I am imprisoned like a dried up river under the bed of gray sand
Waiting for rains to come and carry it to its destination.
Would you still be an ocean waiting for river’s arrival?

I Know Not, Thursday, April 8, 2010

I couldn't let this lovely spring weather go by without writing something about it.






   

















I know not how the Angels sing in heaven
I only hear the birds singing in the morning.
I know not the perfumes of heaven
I only breathe in the scent of flowers in spring breeze
I know not the One who speaks in silence
I know the One who speaks in buzz of creation
I know not who touches my heart
I just know when He touches other hearts through me.

Morning Tea

 Strange how a teapot can represent at the same time the comforts of solitude and the pleasures of company. ~Author Unknown




















There is nothing more satisfying and soothing than the ritual of morning tea.
Now that the movement of time and its connection to outside world have lost much of its significance,
I make my tea and a toast with leisure and sit on my favorite chair to enjoy it.
I feel the rays of rising sun knocking on my front door.
The oval shape glass lets the rays fall on my west wall where it fractures in the rainbow of colors.
Two shoes of light with rainbow borders
Riding on those shoes I could reach to the palace of joy.
From my west window I look out in the back yard
It takes few seconds for my puzzled mind to realize
That the little mist rising from an empty flower pot
Is nothing but the faint reflection of steam rising from my tea cup
Slowly I detect the golden out line of a shoulder wrap and an invisible hand with its robotic movement in the air.
I felt like a detective who has just unearthed a treasure hidden from every body’s eyes.
Living in the city I can not watch the mist rising from the hill top
But the shadowy view on the window with mist rising from flowerpot is no less heavenly.


After the dead of winter the backyard is coming to life.
The tree branches still bare of leaves are adorned with thousands of clusters of yellowish brown beady strands.
Morning breeze gives them a gentle shake
And they dangle and sparkle like long earrings around the faces of beautiful ladies.
The sun puts a spark of life on every thing.
Sitting on my chair drinking tea, my heart dances with the squirrel running from tree to grass and back to tree branches again.
The music festivals and spring dances of countryside are long lost in my memory
But listening and watching birds singing and flying out in the backyard is music to my ears now.
It takes about ten minutes to drink my tea.
Ten minutes of pure pleasure silently showered upon my heart
While fulfilling my most basic need
That I wouldn’t trade with any thing

The River Calls Me



This picture revives some old memories of a river that ran at the boundaries of our house back home.

In the hours of dusty afternoon when the water is cold and crystal clear
The river calls me.
On the sun baked land the banyan tree stands alone in silent meditation.
Like a mother it seems happy to have some quiet time to itself
Soon the noisy birds will return in its lap to claim their place for the night’s rest.
Till then it enjoys in solitude its affinity with river.
On the other side of river long green sugarcane leaves dance with soft breeze.
Farmers have left the field for afternoon siesta.
The tree, the sugar cane and I, all are happy to be alone.
Sitting under the tree I watch the water hitting its raised roots
Restless and agitated as a disturbed mind
But at distance afar river water looks as calm and translucent as the thoughts of a yogi, enveloping my mind with its tranquility.
I raise my Saree to my knees and walk slowly in the water.
In the waist deep water the Saree cloth spreads like a balloon around me ready to take me away.
I make circles in water and hold the cold water in my hand only to watch it drain from my cupped hands.
Here nothing is mine to hold yet every thing is mine for the moment
I take few steps to sink deep in to water to vanish somewhere in its depth.
The force of water throws me up
The river laughs-
Lay no claim to the yonder!
For fear of unknown I go no further
I loose the grip of sandy bottom to float on the surface.
The cold water takes away all my tensions
And makes me feel like a child finding joy in its surroundings
How long was my stay in water-- I don’t know
Time the creation of movement lost it value for a while.
Oblivious to the world below, the Sun-- master of life’s rhythm moves forward in its westward journey spreading its orange glow in the sky
It must be following a higher command.
Rested and rejuvenated I come out of water
As I walk towards home holding my wet Saree
I watch my sand covered feet leaving impressions on sandy path
Knowing fully that in due time my faint footprints shall disappear